


midnight sun (it feels i've been dyed into your colours)

by vjnoe



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist!Jeonghan, Artist!Jisoo, Attempt that is, Drinking, Drugs, Eating Disorders, Fluff, I feel like I had a concept but got lost in the middle of writing and that's the end up product, Jeonghan too, Jisoo is dumb, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, Slow Burn, Some good old pinning, a lot of drinking, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjnoe/pseuds/vjnoe
Summary: Jisoo learned some perspectives are more important than others.Some cure curiosity, some curse it.-Jisoo and Jeonghan are both art students, in the collision of late mid-term exam preparation and increasing guilt, they also foolishly orbit around each other without knowing.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua & Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	1. the voice burning holes in the frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> midnight sun; around the summer solstice, the Sun is visible for the full 24 hours, given fair weather.

When Jisoo was 6 he experienced the great epiphany.

It was a humid, summer mid-afternoon on a playground nearby his home. His head hung loosely as his left hand held tightly to a swing's lines. The rubber turf underneath him radiated with heat and specific smell that was mixed with a sweet scent of melon-flavour lollipop stuck between his teeth. The Sun kissed the skin of his bare arms, covered with various temporary washable tattoos from the packs of his favourite gum.

Swinging slowly he decided to lean back and look at everything upside down.

The sight in front of him surprised him.

Everything he saw earlier looked completely different.

The toys, children running around and trees standing on their crowns.

He wondered how is it possible. How easily can things start to look different.

Jisoo told his mum about it later that day, after lunch. His mum explained to him what a perspective is. And what it means to be dependant on the outlook you're given. Perspectives were said to be able to change.

Jisoo remembered her words and found fun when he could think of new ways to change his perspective. In various ways. The more the better, he believed.

When he was 8 years old he played with a kaleidoscope. After his 13h birthday, he observed the night sky with a telescope and spied his neighbours, hiding behind his windowsill with binoculars in his hands. He did that until his mum told him it's impolite.

Jisoo saw youth can brighter, bloom within more vivid hues when he first tried booze and drugs at 16th birthday. He drank more often until he passed out and felt sick on the next day.

At the age of 20, he foolishly convinced himself life is a moment as he leaned in to kiss a boy in front of him who as singly as a trickle of light reflected in his mind whole night. Like through a prism, his thoughts wandered around the boy's soft features and desire to know how sensitive his skin behind his ear, in the crook of the neck must be.

He tasted the alcohol on the boy's tongue, the known for him perspective before, but quickly got shoved away and yelled at.

Jisoo learned some perspectives are more important than others.

Some cure curiosity, some curse it.

The tragedy happened exactly at 3:15 pm. when class was about to start.

Jisoo swore nothing foreshadowed it before.

Not even dark, rainy clouds nor failed exam from the morning. Neither his grumbling stomach.

Yet, somehow, at God's will, he managed to fuck up things at the very beginning.

It must be the failed exam, though. He tried to explain it to himself, to justify his clumsiness.

"You had one job, Hong. Just one." Mingyu scolded him at the entrance, somewhere underneath the balcony full of gathered, smoking group of girls. The ash of their cigarettes fell into the pavement in front of them. "Shit, come in and quickly think of something!"

"What can I do?" he hissed and leaned closer to whisper. "I can't go back! My ride is 40 minutes long! The cake would melt!"

Mingyu didn't like it. Jisoo knew. He could see it in a hard line set on usually, plump widened in smile lips.

He knew he fucked up badly.

"That was your only job! To get a cake!" Mingyu started gesticulating "To buy a cake, to bring the cake!"

Jisoo sighed. "I know, I know. Don't cry over spilt milk. Spilt cake, whatever. I will think of something."

Mingyu hummed and crossed his arms. It was incredible how big they were and how uncomfortable it must felt to cross arms with so much muscle storage going on.

Jisoo couldn't relate.

"Huh, you have exactly 5 minutes to magically bake a birthday cake. Good luck with that, mate."

Jisoo growled and threw his head back. "Ah, you're no help! Can't we just order one? Isn't there anything like Uber-drive for pastries and special occasions? Like wedding cakes and all."

Mingyu raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth but before Jisoo could hear his answer he quickly shut it and bowed. Jisoo noticed the teacher and bowed as well. They became quiet for a moment but Jisoo could hear Mingyu's thoughts out loud.

"Forget what I said. You have 0 minutes to bring a birthday cake. Mrs Lee doesn't like latecomers and agreeing to things that don't work out." he guessed right.

"But-shit, okay. I will just go with a takeaway."

Mingyu just patted his shoulder. If he wasn't so tall Jisoo would use it as a brotherly sign of support but since it's measuring almost 2 meters man, he feels as if he just disappointed his dad again.

The plan was to surprise their classmate and bring the cake. To see him blow the candles and smile. To sing happy birthday song off-key and gather around to make a toast with cheap champagne as it's the only occasion to legally drink during art class.

Despite many theories and hypothesis of how various substances could improve and increase creativity during work Jisoo talked about, the teacher didn't like the idea. She didn't even ask for scientific evidence. Her no was a simple, straightforward no.

And Jisoo had to accept it.

What he couldn't accept, however, was a disappointment in Mingyu's eyes. The whispers around the class and judging look. The ones from girls were the worst. Very piercing through soul ones. He hated them.

He had no choice, he called for the takeaway and asked for Chinese food. He couldn't think of anything else and didn't know any bakery nearby.

He knew Seokmin liked Chinese food. He would appreciate it as much as a sweet, strawberry birthday cake. If not even more. It depended on a day but the truth was Seokmin was very accepting. Never complained, neither protested. Which was both comforting but also horrific when Jisoo hid in the bathroom and refused to leave.

"Come on, the delivery guy will be there soon." Minghao kicked on the bottom of the door of a cabin. "Seokmin won't cry."

"But what if he will?" Jisoo shook. "Holy shit, I never ever want to see him cry again. It felt like seeing a kicked puppy. I don't want to see it again. And you know what's the worst?"

"What is it?" Minghao asked and checked the hour on his phone.

"It's all my fault."

He knew Minghao was grinning, even though he's sure he just got a message and is more focused on replying than sympathising with him.

"Come on, you always say it's your fault no matter the deal. You remember the night you kissed that one guy during truth or dare? You couldn't shut up about it for.. years. Just move on."

Minghao had a way with his words although Jisoo couldn't understand it. He didn't even say anything smart, he just gave the impression of always knowing what he was doing and that was enough for Jisoo to seek help in him.

Just A move on lighted a bulb above Jisoo's head. As simple as it was.

"It's not your fault.. I mean, okay. It is. You fucked up badly but just accept it's part of learning."

"I will never learn. I never do." Jisoo cries. "How can I forget the cake?! What is a party without a fucking cake, tell me, Hao."

"It's just a regular party."

"Oh, fucking great. Nevermind." Jisoo opened the doors from the cabin and stared at Minghao who quickly hid his phone into his hoodie. "Let's go. And don't ever remind me of that night again."

"Okay, captain."

It turned out Seokmin cried.

Jisoo's heart stopped beating for solid 10 seconds but he quickly came alive when he noticed Seokmin tears were out of joy.

He cried because of the presents and love-chain that surrounded him with wishes, hugs and occasionally kisses. Kisses from brave ones. Like Seungkwan. Jisoo knew he would absolutely do anything for this boy.

Jisoo loosened his grip around the plastic cup and felt relieved. He could almost relax once again, he assured himself, quickly downing his drink. But it didn't matter. It was allowed on that day.

"I heard it was your idea!" Seokmin approached him and if Jisoo guessed well already felt his arms around his waist somewhere in the middle of the sentence. Maybe already at the word: heard. His embrace was warm, gentle sunshine on a spring day like. Jisoo had a good feeling.

"Yeah, it was," Jisoo admitted, the corners of his lips quirked up. "Happy birthday, man."

"I could never imagine so many takeaways at a party!" Seokmin babbled and stole his cup to just disappointedly sigh and look at Jisoo. "That's original. That's something I needed."

"I figured out." white lies didn't hurt anybody. "The food was so good. Need to give them 5 stars or so."

Seokmin nodded and looked somewhere in the distance. As if within gaining a one more year of his life he naturally found himself deep in thought to rethink his life. Or trivial matter. Both worked fine. "True, true."

"Uh, any plans for later?" Jisoo bit into the cup and looked at his friend. He knew the art class was only A Before. The real deal started when the studio was empty and the teacher was gone. "Here or there?"

"Actually planned to go and invite everybody for a dinner but since this part of the plan is already done then." he wiggled his eyebrows. "Here or there, doesn't matter. You will equally get wasted."

"That's what I like hearing." Jisoo pinched his cheek and scrunched his nose, chuckling. They both noticed everyone slowly cleaning up and coming back to their places. "I guess it's time for work. Good luck. Today you're entitled to steal everyone's best brushes and no one can even say a word. Use your chance well."

"I will make sure to steal everyone's but not yours," Seokmin promised and blinked.

He was just a sweetheart like that.

It was free form and thank God for that. Jisoo was able to turn his canvas into "artistic mess" whatever that could resemble.

"That's.. a lot of greys.. and black." Minghao always took his time to walk around the class and comment on everyone's work. Now it's no exception.

Jisoo hummed and didn't raise his head.

"I suppose it was your way to subliminally process your big failure and deal with the anxiety of forgetting the cake."

His eyes rolled so hard they could get lost on their way to the skull. "Yeah.. maybe you're right. Look."

"Mhm?"

"Lean closer." Jisoo made some space. "Look closely, you see this dark line? That's a road."

"A road?" Minghao pouted. He spent too much time with Mingyu, Jisoo supposed. Their reaction was alike. "Go on."

"And see this block? That's a bakery. And this here is me. On my way to get a cake."

Minghao hummed and furrowed his brows. Jisoo raised his hand and bit into his lip, holding a laugh before he smudged the boy's face. "I don't see you there- Hey! What the fuck you're doing?!"

The brush with black paint landed messily into his apron spread on his lap as he moved away from Minghao and place of his crime. The very thick black line on boy's cheek and the jaw were evident. So was Jisoo's laughter.

It took a while to get away from Minghao's hands and revenge (he wouldn't ever stop fighting back). Eventually, Jisoo got to continue painting in the first hour, before a break. He stole few glances here and there and started a useless discussion about paintings of absent students who went for a toilet break.

Needless to say, the artworks were more eye-catching and much more creative than his highway to hell.

Near the windowsill, desk with extra painting tools and the majority of the abandoned canvas of unfinished projects he sat typing an email to his professor.

He prefered doing it then. Not when he got wasted and went on a round of drunk confessions. Sending messages to friends he no longer kept in touch with.

Alcohol brings people together. Especially brought Jisoo to cling into everyone more than space – visible or not – allowed it to. It's embarrassing.

Fixating his gaze on a sculpture of an aspiring-baroque-cherub he didn't notice Minghao's presence near him. Usually, he appeared like a shadow. It's just his way.

"Pair up, honey boy." Jisoo knew that nothing said with that nickname and in such tonation could mean anything positive. And yet he thought nothing worse than cake-failure couldn't beat it. "We're going to do portraits after the break."

"You are be better shitting me right now."

Minghao smirked. Of course, he did not. "I'm sadly not. I'm trying to save you from ending up with somebody you don't like staring at."

Jisoo clapped his hands. "Yes? Perfect then. Now get out cause I already made my choice."

"Ha ha, so funny." Minghao deadpanned and came closer to hand him a plastic cup with a drink. Jisoo wanted to ask, Minghao just waved his hand. Someone is an abstinent, his eyes said. "I already have a partner. You better hurry the fuck up."

"I'm not worried. I can end up alone. I don't have a chance to do autoportrait often."

Minghao tilted his head and cooed. "But I told you I'm here to save you from ending up with somebody you don't like- Ow! Fuck, that hurt, you little bitch."

Jisoo massaged his hand after the hit.

"I love you too but please leave all the love and affection for later," Jisoo grumbled and finished the rest of the drink. Minghao didn't seem to be thirsty. He probably just wanted to get Jisoo wasted before they finish the class.

In fact, he was a little bitch sometimes.

The universe had its special way to confront Jisoo with his unsolved inner conflicts and unreasonably positive attempts of explaining current events.

He spilt new red paint, the lightness in his head but the absolute heaviness inside his chest was overwhelming. The very hanging open mouth and as refining lack of coherent thoughts nor words were there too.

In the Beginning, there was, indeed, chaos.

"Mrs Lee said she hates latecomers, I know."

Jisoo blinked and closed his mouth. Cause holy shit. He was pretty sure he heard that voice before and what's worse he remembers when he heard it last time.

The calculation was short, very quick. The Olympic running competition gold medal quick like.

"I heard you guys were doing free form before and now you're going to do portraits in pairs." the voice was delicate, almost shy but the facade didn't show none of the doubts, hesitation. It almost didn't match each other. Day couldn't meet night. Sun couldn't meet Moon face to face.

Jisoo's memory clashed with the presence. Very contrasting impression.

"Yes. That's right." he shook his head and looked down. Whatever must be intimidating him at the moment was nothing but his guilt and complete, drowning him in shame. "Someone's coming back to the old place?"

The boy nodded and adjusted a bag on his right shoulder. Standing expectantly he stared at Jisoo.

Truly chose the worst student to approach. But Jisoo didn't want to read too much into it.

Maybe he just made him up.

"I heard you didn't pair up and uh, I was told to join you?"

He didn't.

Jisoo wished Minghao left him more drinks.

Cause there was no way he was capable to work with the embodiment of his past regret.

Funny, amusing even, he thought. How easily a living, breathing form as a person can engrave in one's soul as an unreachable to eye association with dominating emotion that gradually breaks something inside. Bit by bit. The way a person can become a memory or a lesson. Worse – both.

Amusing. But he wasn't laughing.

Yoon Jeonghan was nothing but a drunk encounter. The immature, impulsive 2 am kiss and scent of green tea with something sweet, awaiting around the corner.

The glimmering star above the Christmas tree in the dorms and heartfelt laughter beneath the seats.

The flicker of light. And a moment.

But Jisoo knew he just met a completely new person. Right in front of him stood a person. A few years later. With changed history and differing outlook.

His eyes seemed deeper, hair many tones lighter and presence appealing although as innocent as the first snow.

"Yeah, um. Come here. You can bring a chair and use this easel. It's an abandoned one. In need of love and company and shit."

The left corner of Jeonghan's lips lifted slightly. "Okay."

"Yeah, okay," he admitted and sat down.

As the Sun began to set he adjusted his position and offered Jeonghan to do the same. Putting on his best smile began to prepare his workplace. He didn't receive even a glance and quickly turned his eyes away. They found their way on Minghao's very telling expression and gaze that could only be read after knowing him for more than five years.

Jisoo wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

The art studio looked the best at the early-late hours of the day. When the glow of the light was gentle and softly drew out the shadows. Silhouettes of quietly working students danced around in the last rays of the sun. The depth of colours spread on pallettes evoking tiny triumph and inspiration. The warmth shrouding the place with its comforting and pleasant aura.

Jisoo found himself relaxing again. The teacher ordered 45 minutes long work for each student, making it 1.5h long session. Students took turns.

Jisoo had been waiting for a few minutes before Jeonghan collected essentials and found an apron. When he finally spotted the boy back at their place he raised an eyebrow and bit his tongue from commenting.

He believed it takes talent to be able to wear apron wrong way.

"Your apron is.. " he cleared his throat and gestured to the clothing. "You know, another way around."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh." he sighed. "Happens. If I were you I'd change it."

Jeonghan looked troubled, his face bloomed in pink. "Um, okay. Thanks. Got it."

Jisoo thanked all heavens he didn't need further help. Minghao must have already enough observations and thoughts to share at the after-party. Take a shot every time you regretted coming to today's art class, perhaps. Jisoo was able to see himself passed out and laying facing a dumpster already.

Jeonghan sat down and tightened the line around his waist. The waist that looked as fragile as a petal, very feminine. Jisoo was intrigued but guessed it was probably just the boy's way to flaunt himself. After all, that was Jisoo's constant impression from somebody this quiet but collected on the outside.

Again, he couldn't relate.

"So.." he made Jeonghan look up at him again.

And shit.

He looked more tolerable up close than Jisoo remembered him to be.

He also thought going blonde and growing his hair out was a good decision. Light colour brought out his features and made him stand out in a crowd.

Just a few observations, really.

He was dressed nicely too but Jisoo knew fashion played an important part in an artist's life. Even in aspiring one. Jeonghan just wanted to blend in. By being the brightest star in the constellation at once.

He absolutely did an awful job.

Jeonghan kind of looked gorgeous and fresh and Jisoo bit into the inner side of his cheek.

"Do you want to go first?" he asked and shifted in his place. It got uncomfortable for some reason. "With painting?"

Jeonghan opened his mouth slightly and closed it right after. He didn't seem like a man of words. "No, it's fine. You can go first."

Jisoo nodded and was about to recall the tongue's location in his mouth when he felt a sharp edge of paper meeting with his cheek. He shuddered and noticed a paper plane on his lap.

_The party starts at 8. My place._

His eyes wandered from the text on a plane to owner of the very neat, vintage type, I-want-to-differ-from-everyone-here handwriting who finger gunned at him. Without enthusiasm but with a quite lopsided smile he gestured back at Seokmin at the other side of the studio.

Those were the most distressed finger guns he ever sent.

"Would you like to start?" Jeonghan's question wasn't invasive. Just a grounding one. Like a mindfulness exercise. Jisoo apologised and turned back to him.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. It's just." he wondered how much at fault was his stained conscience and how much was a simple daily need to explain himself at all times. "It's Seokmin's birthday and earlier we celebrated before the class started. We had Chinese food and some champagne. He's throwing a proper party later since we couldn't drink much here. Mrs Lee wasn't keen on bringing greasy takeaway here anyways. Not to mention drinking."

Jeonghan sat silent.

"What I meant was he said his party is at 8 at his place." Jisoo started organising paints on his right side and ignored how tight his throat felt. Matter of few seconds, really. No amount of alcohol couldn't fight the feeling before his very protagonist self jumped out. "Wanna come too?"

The boy looked surprised but there was a hint of something slowly opening up and softening in his features. Similar to the way nature's mistake becomes one very lucky child's wonder when finds a four-leaf clover.

"Sounds good."

"Yeah, okay." Jisoo furrowed his eyebrows slightly and bit into his lower lip. Sometimes he believed he could _yeah, okay_ away with life. Even in such a situation.

Jeonghan's answer didn't satisfy his inner demons. Sometimes no is the best answer to anticipate.

The longest 40 minutes of Jisoo's life was slowly coming to an end.

The beginning is always the worst part of starting any process. A person tends to struggle and doubt their decision. Only within time and progress, they notice they become better and better. Development and improving are inevitable if one keeps going.

Jisoo admitted in the very beginning he considered playing his well-known act of a 6 years old with a stomach bug and simply decline to go to a party with very mature for his age excuse.

He couldn't imagine spending more than 1.5h hour longer around Jeonghan.

Not when he crossed the awkward first phase and finally started to be himself more. Which meant Jeonghan wiggling around even when Jisoo told him to stay still and pose. Or when the first argument occurred and Jisoo's hand were ready to throw paper plane right into Jeonghan's eyes crinkling up amusingly.

"What style would you like? A normal one, caricature or sexy anime guy like?"

Jeonghan tilted his head.

"Surprise me."

Jisoo was already mixing ugly, dirty swamp green paint and imagining how breathtaking caricature can he only create. The boy's answer only made him more sure about his decision.

Yet.

The longer he stared at Jeonghan the longer he noticed it's impossible.

The more Jeonghan's lips widened (but tried not to because Jisoo scolded him every time he smiled) Jisoo eventually noticed his cheeks began to hurt from doing the same. The louder their chatter became and the quicker words left his mouth as well as laughter the harder it was to remember Jeonghan was nothing but a moment and his presence was nothing but mid afternoon's chance for redemption.

Jisoo decided to stay grounded and go for a normal portrait.

"Woah, this is so good!" it was Mingyu. Somehow everywhere but not at his workplace which shouldn't be anything Jisoo didn't know of.

"Thanks." he hummed. "The lighting is great at this hour."

"Not the model?" Jeonghan asked and leaned to his side to peek up at Jisoo. He didn't dare to spare a glance.

Mingyu just giggled and for some reason pushed Jisoo's arm. As always when he is embarrassed or finds himself in a conflicting situation.

"I'm pretty sure it's both." if Mingyu could be evil's advocate then the very evil also visited Jisoo's workplace and greeted Jisoo with his proud face.

"Yeah, maybe," Jisoo admitted and heard Minghao chuckling. "Why are you here? Don't you have anything to do? Like, maybe doing each other portraits?"

"Well.." Minghao stretched his arms. "I admire you being very hardworking Jisoo but Mrs Lee announced a break."

Jisoo stopped his brush at the centre of the canvas and shook his head. "When?"

"About 5 minutes ago?" Mingyu looked at Minghao. Truly an advocate he was. Jisoo could only wish he had company as obedient but intimidating with the looks as Mingyu.

Minghao nodded, as convincing as the owner of pupper who was just learning how to bring the thrown ball. The metaphor seemed too real to be just an abstract this time.

"Now you have 10 more minutes, maestro." Minghao was quick to inform him. "Unless you really work on a masterpiece of your life."

"Which would be justified," Mingyu added. Jisoo could never tell if he was trying to make every living being on this planet flustered or he just thought out loud.

"Okay, I get that. Can you please leave so we have an actual break?"

"Touché." Minghao squinted and took Mingyu by arm to turn away and walk away.

Jisoo, now, if even more possibly had even bigger issues with his ongoing guilt.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't notice and I didn't hear Mrs Lee. My bad," he apologised and looked at Jeonghan first time since Minghao appeared.

But he spoke to nothing but a ghost of Jeonghan, who was no longer sitting on the stool.

Not reading too much into it, Jisoo's painting only had lips part left.

And Jeonghan was nowhere to be seen. Almost as if he dissolved into the air or disappeared somewhere beneath the loud chatter of students and noises of migrating groups of artists here and there.

Eventually, he came back, shortly after the break.

Jisoo wondered how much he heard, how much he saw and read between the lines but it was undeniable he remembered Minghao and Mingyu.

But he prefered to focus on the work. Back to business. He was an adult.

"I need few more minutes," he informed when Jeonghan sat in his pose and looked at him. "I have last one part left and I will be done."

"Which part?" Jeonghan asked smartly. He resembled a fox at times like this.

"Lips," Jisoo mumbled behind the canvas.

"Okay."

He didn't dare to look at Jeonghan's expression but in the end, he had to. Jeonghan wore neutral, almost as still as stone peace on his face.

Their eyes met for a second but none of them said anything.

Jisoo continued to work in silence until he was done and put his canvas away.

"Am I not allowed to see it?" Jeonghan asked as he sneaked in.

Jisoo shrugged. "Not yet. Would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?"

Jeonghan agreed and quickly showed Jisoo how to pose before he sat on his stool, in front of the easel.

Jisoo felt naked although he was very aware of his clothing and tight apron's line around his waist. And even his dirty sneakers.

He didn't like being exposed. He was used to being behind the easel, the camera. His lens to the outer world never included himself as the centre. Quite paradoxical it was.

"Jisoo, can I ask you something?" Jeonghan didn't look at him. He was slowly getting into his work mode, Jisoo guessed. Despite the lack of attention, his body showed, his voice was another story.

Jisoo took a long breath in. He kept the breath out to wait for the question.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really do my caricature?" Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and peered, his head still lowered.

Jisoo let a breath out.

"I didn't."

Jeonghan's grin was fuller, wider. Something about it told Jisoo there was more behind the question itself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello :^) if you made it this far, ily. this work is loosely based on many things i liked and it's mostly fluffy, albeit, one chapter mentions briefly mental health issues.


	2. you reach out, i'm shaking again

In dimmed lights, everything looked better, enigmatic or in no need of being acquiesced.

It didn't take much time for everyone to get wasted and forget themselves in a merely allowing to breathe, tight space of Seokmin's flat.

Everyone found their place. So did Jisoo.

Except he was sure he was one of the very last ones who were in a fully conscious state of mind.

The smell was intoxicating, music played with his senses. One time he drifted on clouds, later then he felt heavy bass tingling his insides.

He couldn't complain. He liked getting wasted.

The parties although, are not his thing. These two go in pair but Jisoo's list of regrets always started with losing control somewhere in the middle of a night in a bar, someone's dorm or a club.

He wasn't carefree but was he one immune to what his drunk, very creative mind and primaeval desires pushed him to do?

Of course not. He was a man.

So this time surprisingly, as much as he wanted to end spread on the sofa between unknown arms, drinking and smoking, he couldn't bring himself to go for it.

Minghao joined him for a hot minute, offering a joint. Jisoo couldn't decline even if he wanted. He smiled in return and blew the smoke into his face. Minghao laid his head on his arm.

"Gather here you fucks! We're playing truth or dare!" if he guessed well it was Soonyoung screaming. Minghao's long and hearable grumbling convinced him he was right.

"No way."

"Get out with me from here."

They said at the same time and nodded.

"No, I'm not joining your dance battles."

Many _But Jisooo_ s and _You're no fun_ s later Jisoo managed to hear appreciative Yes Jisoo and No party is the same without you.

And it only took him many drinks and round of shots.

Sacrificing his dignity with the poor performance of his dancing skills, maybe as well. Lack of them actually.

The light reflected into his raspberry drink the way it created tiny, curved moons floating above the surface. His gaze fixated on them as he gasped to sudden, warm contact felt on his skin. An arm surrounded his shoulders.

"Gyu, can't you see I'm busy?"

The big guy was already sweaty. God only knew if it was drugs or something else. "Busy?" he breathed out.

"Trying to take a break. I can't fucking feel my legs."

Mingyu grinned, as adorably as he could. "I saw you! You were great! A dancing machine!"

Jisoo rolled his eyes and pushed him away. But drunk force on its own made him pull back. He leaned into Mingyu. "Sometimes you're too nice. Even being this wasted."

And Mingyu just lowered his head. Jisoo was sure it wasn't shyness, something as obvious as his attempt to lie and boost Jisoo's aching ego. It's second time again today. He was truly being spoiled by the younger brat that Mingyu was.

Jisoo pinched his cheek and walked away seeking occasion to try something sour and hopefully colourful.

At 2 am Minghao spilt his drink into Jisoo's shirt.

Mingyu would again say: It's justified.

Even he knew Chan's overenthusiastic offer was a total joke.

Minghao hid his head in Mingyu's arm and chuckled. Mingyu was a better actor. Less prone to make fun of Jisoo at every step, in every moment Jisoo's lungs decided to exchange oxygen with carbon dioxide. Or another way around.

"Shut up, you-- wait Chan, you must be fucking kidding me."

"Language!" Soonyoung scolded him, protectively embracing Chan's shoulders. He was a big brother. No matter how old Chan was, he was his lucky charm and the only found pearl in the littered ocean.

But the kid was already an adult and initiated a round of shots. Without a chaser. Probably behind Soonyoung's back. Jisoo saw it all and participated willingly.

"He clearly lost a bet."

"I didn't!" Chan pouted and waved his hands. Jisoo could almost believe him if he wasn't sure this whole situation was just an occasion to take a piss out of him.

"So you're telling me, a dancer of 10 years experience, that Jisoo's one performance convinced you to ask him to join our group?" Minghao huffed.

"I mean, he was good." Soonyoung nodded. So did Mingyu.

Minghao stole his drink and didn't comment.

Jisoo swayed on his legs and caught a glimpse of Jun approaching them. He knew it was time to leave. He knew the shit was about to blow and get real.

"Need to go," he mumbled. Jun jogged his wobbly way to their group and Minghao sent Jisoo death glare as he saluted and left.

There is no way Jun wouldn't stop pushing him to actually join the group. The professional group of dancers with over ten years of long experience. The group who travels around the country and takes part in competitions, mind you.

Jisoo hiccuped. Over his dead body.

"What are you doing?"

"Tarot reading."

Jisoo shook his head and looked around the room to find a space for himself. Two girls ignored him as he walked past them. His best, most cautious way to avoid interrupting nightly reading.

At this point, he didn't have any questions. He was pretty sure he saw enough going on in the living room.

He couldn't simply just go home yet because he was trundling even if he felt motionless. His legs betrayed him the worst way possible.

Jisoo stumbled his way into an armchair and excused the person sitting on the armrest.

"Jisoo?"

Jeonghan turned and glanced at him from his shoulder. Slowly blinking and illustrating the spread, tired mess that Jisoo was.

He could learn some elegance.

Jeonghan hid his smile in his shoulder and looked down. "Everything alright?" he asked before his eyes returned to Jisoo's.

Maybe it was the way his melodious voice broke through the loud, obnoxious cacophony. Or just the fact it was almost soothing to look at him that very moment. Jisoo's attention lingered a bit too long for his own good.

"Uh, yeah. Everything's peachy."

Jisoo knew the conversation could go in any direction from that moment. The circumstances were conducive, giving space for unsaid explanations and dissolving any doubts. Alcohol did its job too.

Instead, Jisoo just stared and thought of anything he could hang into to avoid the topic. That was much easier than acknowledging the existence of a big elephant in the room.

"Jisoo." Jeonghan's lips curved up. He giggled. Jisoo felt mislead. "I swear since we met in the class today you haven't stopped looking at me as if you knew something I don't."

"No, no. I-I don't. Why do you think that?" Jisoo nervously chuckled. Of course, he didn't look at him that way.

He could pull on stomach bug act this right minute if Jeonghan's voice wasn't so innocent and curious. Almost making him feel as if he talked to a child who never once experienced hurting his knee on a playground.

Jisoo cleared his throat and shifted in his place when Jeonghan turned his way.

"I don't know.." he murmured and looked down on the drink in his hands, playing with a straw. "I thought maybe there was something. Forget it."

The fight inside oneself is the strongest battle to win. Jisoo wasn't sure if he was able to tilt the balance, neither he knew which side was right. His mouth got dry.

"I was just surprised to see you," Jisoo confessed, truthfully. "You were gone for some time."

Jeonghan's smile faded slowly. "Had some errands. Personal stuff to do."

Jisoo wondered what could possibly take a few years to make a person completely disappear out of everyone's sight. He wasn't born yesterday. He knew there must be a more undiscovered story between the look on Jeonghan's face shrouded in dim light and his words, almost unreachable.

"I see," he replied. Again, no lying.

He could only see as much he was being delivered to.

Before his drunk mind started to relive December night over again and before his thoughts began to recall one empty space in front of easel the next day.

Schemes, experiences and oddly memorable passions always cloudy the judgment. Jisoo knew objectivity is nothing else but another point of view. Neither as known as his own, neither as righteous although that's what he tended to hear.

A mind likes taking shortcuts, just like human's legs do after a long day at work. It also seeks occasion to guess rightly when a similar situation occurs. To predict the result and future, aiming for providing nothing but the organisation and the order at one's world.

That way Jisoo wasn't disappointed when Jeonghan didn't attend the next art class. He didn't dare to look up his unfinished project. The canvas was still covered with a white, delicate veil.

He couldn't tell if Jeonghan did a caricature of him.

The longer he stared at it the more blank the sight became. As empty as already plain veil could be, it became even more lonesome.

"Ice creams after the class? It's on me." Seokmin approached him, wearing his colourful apron and sunshine between his eyes as always. The words, too. Jisoo could never say no to free food. Even if was ice creams during the middle of the winter.

"You're the best."

"Simply the best?" Seokmin sang and stole a few glares at their direction. Not that anyone minded. They were used to his singing. It's all he did, after all. Beside painting. And being sunshine.

Jisoo snorted "Something like that."

Seokmin finger gunned him again as he walked away to his workplace. Jisoo sighed loudly and glanced at the covered canvas in front of him.

Was he being played or did he just read too many psychology books over the last time, he didn't know. What he acknowledged was he felt strange.

Jisoo didn't like the bitter taste of black coffee and being misled. He avoided both at all cost. Caffeine is easier to cut on, but you can't cut on things as daily as quarrels and understatements. Emotions and especially memories stay longer in the bloodstream.

He took a chance of his solitude and leaned his chin on the back of the chair, eyes focused on the veil. Thinking and thinking.

Was it possible Jeonghan lied to him or did he genuinely forget him, Jisoo wondered. Was it as easy to cover unwanted parts of their relation as to hide the very reflection of Jisoo through Jeonghan's eyes?

Perhaps, he remembered and decided to treat Jisoo as a blank space, maybe, an unwelcomed nighttime stranger. Maybe If he could he would hide him between curtains and cover smoothly with his lean, precise hands.

Jisoo squinted his eyes and quickly gave up.

He couldn't tell through the veil if his portrait was finished anyway.

"How long has this cafe been here?" Jisoo asked, leaning into the counter.

The barista or just sophomore Literature student with poor eyesight chuckled. Or even easier – Wonwoo.

His look was very telling. With barely any intention or effort he was always able to make one feel dumb or uneducated. Both were equal in Jisoo's dictionary but not in Wonwoo's.

They didn't agree on many things.

"I'm sure at least since the last Friday." the boy joked, Jisoo sent him death glare and ignored how smoothly he managed to decorate the fanciest ice creams from the card, check new incoming customers and even more precisely hit right into Jisoo's very touchy topic that is shameful memory of Seokmin's birthday.

"Why last Friday?" the late-birthday boy asked, already eating his portion of ice creams. His soft, eyelashes batting stare apologised. Jisoo knew he craved the sweets since the time they only left the studio. Seokmin didn't really have to wait for Jisoo. He looked so innocent before he started licking his fingers loudly.

Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow at Jisoo. He didn't want to explain. Running away from the cafe didn't seem like a right, non-suspicious option either.

He had no fucking clue there was a cafe 5 minutes far from the art studio.

"Nevermind. How about you find us a cosy corner? I'll join in a second."

Seokmin looked at Wonwoo and Jisoo back a few times before he decided to leave.

"I'm pretty sure he'll know sooner or later." Wonwoo handed him the ice creams and accidentally – Jisoo didn't believe that – made Jisoo stain paws of his sweater with the cream.

He didn't apologise, if his smug expression could, it would thank him for his heedlessness if anything.

"Ah! Look what you're doing!" Jisoo growled and quickly started to wipe the hand with a tissue. Wonwoo dared to provide him more than one. With a class of the first generation of gentlemen. "And shut up, he doesn't need to know cause-"

"Cause he will cry, yes." Wonwoo turned his back away. Jisoo froze.

"Is there anything that Gyu doesn't tell you? Or is he not able to shut up at all? About anything? This boy.."

Wonwoo didn't even shrug.

"Take a wild guess. But I recommend eating first. Your ice creams are melting into your sweater."

Jisoo finished his ice cream in a matter of a minute before he rushed into the bathroom.

In the middle of revisiting old parties memories and complaining about the cold outside while eating ice creams, Jisoo spotted a familiar face in the back of the cafe.

The thick, woollen scarf made it almost impossible to notice but Jisoo's senses tend to be more sharpened when he has an unfinished case going on. The dainty nose and pair of glasses dispelled the doubts.

Jisoo caught Seokmin's stare and quickly thought of a plan.

"Hey," he whispered over the empty bowl with a tiny spoon. "Could you turn back and check if the boy in the pink is Jeonghan? But don't be weird and obvious about it."

Seokmin's eyes widened, spoon hung from his lips as he quickly turned. Half of his body snapped, Jisoo wondered how come he didn't hear bones breaking.

"I'm not sure. It looks like him, though. Should we come and say hi?" he thought out loud. Jisoo felt his ears reddening and grasped Seokmin's arm to turn back.

"I said don't be obvious!" he hissed and lowered his head. To-be-said-Jeonghan glanced towards them but Jisoo hid in the corner of the table, the way other clients served as a temporary fortress. He hoped to not be noticed.

Seokmin turned back again and waved at Jeonghan sending him a warm smile.

Jisoo hid his face in his hands.

"He looks busy, I think he's studying." Seokmin continued, on the contrary, beaming with enthusiasm and a will to jump out to ask Jeonghan about his day and anything else but not why he was absent during art class.

"Oh, look. He's inviting us."

 _Stomach bug or maybe, okay nevermind_ , Jisoo thought and looked at Wonwoo, working and preparing foamed milk. He didn't seem to be much of help either.

They sat at the table, exactly next to Jeonghan who besides a half-empty cup of americano had various books and laptop spread on the table in front. Seeing them two he quickly closed the laptop and grinned lazily. Jisoo could spot the evidence of morning classes in the uncovered, dark circled under eyes and the way his words lingered longer on his tongue than resonated in the air.

Jeonghan greeted them serenely and sleepily, beneath the scarf. A muffled sound came across convincing. He was happy to see them.

When Seokmin interviewed him about almost every trivial matter Jisoo chased to take his chance.

"Why did you skip art class?" Seokmin won the race. Jisoo gladly closed his mouth again. "Mrs Lee asked about you, she is afraid you won't pass with your attendance. She called it being ignorant. And if she says that it means you're on the thin ice."

Jeonghan shrugged, truly unbothered.

"I haven't had time to talk to her about my situation yet," he explained, Jisoo felt like a cat and turned his ears at him. "Had classes and other things going on."

Jisoo nodded, Jeonghan stared at him.

"Worry not, my muse, I will finish your portrait next time."

His neck and ears felt set on fire but he cleared his throat and thought about a reasonable answer to such unreasonable words.

"What a shame, I hoped it was finished."

Jeonghan tilted his head. It seemed like a habit. Jisoo didn't want to know what stood behind it and behind softening expression around his eyes. It must be an amusement. If it was anything else he'd choke on his spit.

"Next time," Jeonghan promised silently and quickly looked down at the cup of coffee when Jisoo caught him staring.

"Alright." Jisoo nodded and patted Seokmin's thigh loudly enough to make him flinch. He probably thought of being slapped or having a spider on his leg. Jisoo grabbed his leg. "Sadly we have to hurry to the lecture, but we can continue this conversation some other time. Right, Seokmin?"

Judging by questioning look and fear behind his eyes, Jisoo understood Seokmin had absolutely no idea why was Jisoo suddenly escaping friendly-bonding-time student activity with a fellow artist in the middle of the conversation. He didn't have time to explain. And by now he knew what goes around comes around. He needed to choose his shoulder to cry on better and never trust his friends again. And escape from the Disney bunny aspiring imitation in front of him.

"Right, yes! Lecture, the lecture we have in 40 minutes." he babbled and received a tight grasp. Hopefully, Jisoo could be intimidating and remind Seokmin there would be consequences waiting for at least once. When he needed it the most. "No, in 20 minutes. Let's go!"

"Till next time!" Jisoo threw as a goodbye, over his arm.

Jeonghan shook his head and played with the pen between his teeth when Jisoo almost tripped over Seokmin's confused steps. The innocent but inevitable laughter escaped Jeonghan's mouth.

Jisoo hated every second of lingering, hazy gaze and last bits of sweet scent following him like a stalker. And the impression of first snow around the corner. The sudden blush on pale cheeks and the cute, too-pretty-for-a-broken-student outfit which matched the cafe's winter display too.

Shit.

Jisoo hated Jeonghan. He truly did.

When they rushed to exit Wonwoo shot him confusing look as well. Something in Jisoo's guts told him the barista probably had insight into the cross-section of his brain and could read his mind. Or maybe he just heard Minghao talking about Jisoo's hamletizing (did he just make up a word) to Mingyu.

Either way.

Jisoo hated Jeonghan but he hated Mingyu even more.

"You're telling me you didn't watch a sad teen romance movie before?"

Jisoo cursed under his breath and threw the ball into the basket.

He didn't score. The ball flew over the board and rolled into dewy grass, growing next to the court. He had absolutely no idea how could he miss so badly.

Minghao observed as the ball rolled further and further, not even flinching to bring it and throw it to Jisoo.

Jisoo spread his arms and frowned. Minghao shrugged and came back to texting.

"I didn't! I didn't, okay?" he yelled on his way to grab the ball. Not everyone had to have the determination to play basketball at 10 pm on Thursday in the middle of snowless, icy winter. It's understandable. Not everyone had to witness it beside Minghao, either.

After all, it was Minghao who found him there and didn't ask more than two questions to know exactly Jisoo's dealing with increasing guilt and something that starts with the big letter L. And it's not Love.

Jisoo felt lost.

"You sound exactly like a teenager in the peak of the hormonal and emotional eruption."

It brought his attention. Jisoo dramatically bounced the ball on his way to the boy and rested it on his hip.

Minghao didn't look impressed at all. Jisoo's ego hurt although he could never admit.

When did he decide to form his suffering into perfectly crafted performance?

Probably when he joined the art classes. He wore his pain and conflicts in the prettiest shades, the dresses he sewed and sewed until his hands began to hurt more than psyche endured.

But he needed an alternative. Basketball seemed good. At the beginning at least.

"Hao."

Minghao leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"You're full of assumptions and shit."

He threw the ball. And didn't aim this time either.

Minghao chuckled and coughed into his sleeve. "Nice one. Tell me more."

Jisoo honestly just wanted to be alone for few minutes.

Except, the truth was he spent awfully long hours playing basketball and thinking all life philosophies behind the reason why people play basketball. He thought it'd be a good source of relieving the stress. The way to improve his stamina, clear his mind from the thoughts of upcoming classes and encounters.

Instead, he stood at the court, in a night breeze, didn't feel his lips from trembling and threw the ball over and over again. To the basket. He didn't receive applaud nor did he score.

He was only throwing a ball to the basket.

He had enough if one could tell.

Also, he prefered if his friend came back to a warm home instead of pulling on being his psychoanalyst.

"Get to the point, Hao." he hurried. "I know you're here because of something."

"I'm here because of you, idiot."

Minghao took a few, penguin, wobbly, slow steps towards him and brought his hands from the pockets to steal the ball.

"I heard you threatened Seokmin to escape from the meeting Jeonghan in the cafe. You ignored my calls the whole two days. For our project, you did the ugliest presentation I've ever seen a student using powerpoint could do. You're playing basketball in the middle of the week alone. At night. In winter. "

"Listen-"

Minghao raised his finger. Jisoo could bite it off. "Those are facts. Let's define a word assumptions maybe one more time?"

Jisoo rolled his eyes but didn't dare to look into Minghao's eyes. They worked like polygraph and Jisoo wished he was anywhere but in an interrogation room.

"He doesn't remember me." his heartbeat would betray him already so Jisoo decided to spill the beans himself. "But he knows my name. How could he not, right .. We've been studying for so long together. And the high school. He was- He was always somewhere there. I saw him. You know how it is- we know some people just from seeing. You don't know shit about the person but just a name and faculty. He was a stranger before. "

"You want things to stay that way?"

Jisoo grumbled and tugged himself into his friend's chest, letting his arms fall into sides of his body. "I don't know? Maybe. Maybe fucking not. Can't things just don't have to stay either way and disappear?"

 _That was a great question_ , Minighao's understanding hum acknowledged. _Maybe you should sleep on it_ , gentle embrace of his left arm suggested. _It's getting colder, let's go home_ , his caring, sincere smile meant.

Jisoo tried to convince himself he could strike a balance in all situations.

What a fool he was.

Existence of Friday was very evident, so was the art class. Jisoo tried to find a bug in a matrix or influence the reality he was put in. If he could manipulate time and place any way he wouldn't be purposely getting late to class and praying Jeonghan didn't wear enough oversized sweaters underneath his coat. He wished Jeonghan caught a cold and couldn't attend the class. Wishful thinking.

Running in late, he noticed the only control he had at the moment was changing his approach and perspective.

Jeonghan talked to the teacher at the entrance. His smile bloomed as the sight of Jisoo slowly and he swore he must have learned it. There was no way a person could do something so imposing with such effortless manner.

Jisoo spotted his place and Jeonghan's bag near his easel.

And he had nothing but five minutes to decide whether he was going to play along and forget he knew the touch of Jeonghan's lips on his or drop the bomb smoothly enough to avoid victims.

It was a suicide mission nonetheless.

Both options sounded unrealistic and impossible. Jisoo found himself stuck in a loop. Ongoing, ongoing questions.

"Here, honey boy." Minghao surprised him at his workplace with a cup of steaming tea. "Might warm you up."

Jisoo took the cup and held his hand, swinging it to the sides slowly. "Thanks."

Minghao didn't let go but his smile turned sly. Jisoo sensed a change. "Are you ready to paint a nude?"

Jisoo choked on his drink and felt his eyes watering from the wave of heat inside his chest. "No." he coughed. "Fuck no, what? Are you serious?"

Of course, he wasn't. Not with that shameless confidence and successful, deliberate crime.

"Do you want me to be or not?"

Jisoo kicked him. "Want what? To be taken seriously or not? Be my model? Or have this tea spilt into your face?"

"Okay, okay. I was joking." Minghao pulled his hand away and bit into a paper cup with coffee. "But your face looks like the prettiest rose I've ever seen. So red. So ready to be picked up and undressed from all the thorns by the one who dared to see what those lips- I meant petals of yours hide."

Mingyu whistled. Jisoo couldn't tell when did he join and where did he get a coffee from. Someone must buy a coffee maker. Or found out the cafe around the corner.

Jisoo gagged and kicked Minghao once again, who only laughed and returned to his place, tugging Mingyu along with him. Jisoo thanked Gods Mingyu's mouth was full the 95% of the time. He didn't need more waxed poetry or advocate's investigation whatever did Minghao meant. Jisoo knew. He just wished he didn't know his friend for so long and could tape his mouth when he needed it most.

"Hi Jisoo."

Jeonghan grinned at him. He appeared all of sudden. His apron was the wrong way.

Jisoo was burning inside.

"Hey. Uh, it's not that I'm apron police but your- apron is another way around again."

Jeonghan blushed. Truly, he was anything gentler than the peak of eruption Jisoo was at the moment. He wished he didn't see striking contrast and he wasn't about to blow out.

"Oh, oh thanks." Jeonghan started to fix the clothing. It didn't take him longer than a few seconds. Jisoo recalled a lesson about gratitude and applied to his life right this moment.

Small things, they matter. They make a person the happiest.

"No problem."

Jeonghan looked hesitant and the brush flinched in his hand. "Uh, about the portrait-" he began to tidy his space in front of the easel, not looking into Jisoo's eyes. "I couldn't finish it without you. Mrs Lee suggested staying after the class."

Jisoo knew where this was going.

"Do you have a moment to meet up later and finish it?"

Somewhere around the corner, Minghao was sipping on his coffee and demonstrating modern art, the one that speaks volumes without words.

Mingyu was eyeing Jisoo and silently judging (he could never do it out loud) for avoiding a confrontation and refusing to grab a chance to improve, grow and all that shit (fighting his demons).

Seokmin probably wouldn't tell there could be a subcutaneous issue in such matter of helping classmate finish their project. What possibly could go wrong, he would ask and pat his arm, maybe buy ice creams or steal seven stars from the universe just for him too.

Jeonghan's gaze was awaiting, although not directed at Jisoo. Which, truthfully, made it even worse.

Everything he wanted, could want Jisoo was guessing, was to improve his attendance and get good grades. Jisoo was there to help him pass the class.

Right?

"Yes."

Jisoo became very aware of his delicate, unshaved stubble and still dirty sneakers when he received a grateful smile.

His mind spun with symphonies, Sunrises and moments that took his breath away and engraved inside his memory.

He agreed to help Jeonghan. That's all.


	3. your softness still haunts me

Jeonghan confessed he liked working in silence. On the contrary, Jisoo couldn't imagine the process of creating without extra stimulus. Be it, songs, drugs or swirling inside current obsessions.

Emptiness meant emptiness. Jisoo couldn't find anything there than blank space. That's why starting his projects was the worst, most irritating part. Only a single, first touch of a brush on canvas could slowly reveal the first pages of a novel he was about to write.

Jeonghan, however, was another story.

He spent the next minutes quietly, only humming to himself softly from time to time and asking Jisoo to raise his chin slightly or make sure he's not tired.

Which was cute.

As much as can already sweet, burn sugar-coated voice be any sweeter in its form.

Jisoo was sure Jeonghan was capable of making even most serious, controversial declaration sound as Disney character's monologue before the song starts.

After 15 minutes of posing, Jisoo gave up and thought he had nothing to lose. Some irrational hunger must be fed.

"Can I have a weird request?" he asked, glancing towards Jeonghan.

The boy peered and nodded, adjusting his body language to the silence. He had his way of always fitting inside the room he was put in. It was intriguing but also puzzling.

"Could you think of something serious, deep and like- say it out loud?"

Jeonghan blinked dumbfounded and bit into his lower lip. His eyebrows knitted together.

"Can I ask why?"

"You just did." Jisoo teased. Not that he wanted. Sometimes force on its own was stronger than his rationality. Before the youngest part of the brain woke up from the daze and spoke up at the right time. Jisoo couldn't count on it usually. This time neither.

"Your voice is.." he stopped and remembered words carry the weight. They also have connotations. And adjectives? are the worst. "it sounds cute. I wonder how good of serial killer you could be."

Jeonghan laughed and stopped painting. The silence was interrupted. Jisoo was pleased although he could never imagine the sound to be so loud and open. New gates were open. Maybe strawberry fields waited around the corner.

"Okay.." he cleared his throat. "That's unusual. Do you really think my voice is cute?"

"Yeah." his lips twitched. "Especially when you raise it. It just does the thing. And you sound cute. You'd be a horrible serial killer."

Jisoo wasn't drunk, he was just insane. Jeonghan, though, seemed feeling completely out of the place.

"Words have no power to impress the mind without perfectly frightening their reality."

It didn't rain, the sky was shrouded with merely few pink-stained clouds. There was no wind outside. Yet, Jisoo swore he felt shivers and it wasn't a matter of the tone of Jeonghan's voice.

Jeonghan wasn't a star, he didn't have to listen to what his manager in charge of public relations and image told him to do. He had no crowd to impress, neither he had to do what Jisoo asked him to.

However, life was full of surprises.

"Good one," he admitted and gulped. His Adam's apple moved upwards. "How do you know it? The quote, I mean."

Jeonghan's smile was roguish. He sold his best deal just now, Jisoo had no doubt. He was too clever, astute. The look was misleading, especially the pastel-coloured dream going on in his choice of today's outfit. So was the voice.

"Read a lot, have a good memory."

Jisoo was nothing but a buffoon.

"Is it a caricature?"

Jeonghan's cheeks have never been seen fuller. The pearly smile was blinding. He shook his head but still attempted to cover his portrait well. The oversized sweater made him look like flying squirrel on a mission.

"No. Is my portrait a caricature?"

Jisoo took a step closer but still didn't cross the private-artist-area to not stress Jeonghan out. It'd be unfair. His project was hidden somewhere between other artworks. He didn't have to defend his baby yet.

"It's not. I've told you."

Jeonghan seemed tame. "Okay, show first."

It took time but eventually, Jisoo found his canvas and looked at it once again.

The lips seemed rushed, touched by the gale or storm. He didn't take proper care of shading but compared to the whole picture they brought one's attention. It wasn't intended, Jisoo prefered drawing a flower over the centre of a picture. Maybe a lighthouse for good measure.

The centre is the most important part. That's where eye follows and lingers.

His hands felt weak at the edges of the canvas. Jisoo tried to grasp them closer and tighter. Whatever he was holding too, he began to shake.

"It's not the best one out there. I haven't painted a portrait in years but yeah. Here it is."

The boy, if possible, became even quieter. Astonishment, that's what Jisoo tried to read between the open hanging lips. The ghost of them danced inside his mind.

His steps were cautious, small despite reaction growing in size. "I-It's so beautiful." he breathed out and touched the painting with index and middle finger. Jisoo looked down and paid attention to the closing distance of Jeonghan's reflection.

"Do you like it?" the question slipped itself. So did the rest. "I added some flowers in the background during the break. I thought they'd match. Good for practice, too. Don't mind me."

Jeonghan bit into his lip, his gaze jumped at every inch of the painting. Jisoo noticed bright, golden eyeshadow and glitter adorning the corners of the boy's lids.

Almost as if a bee lost some of the sweet nectar on its way and spread it into his face. Not planned, most likely, Jisoo noticed some of it on the nose and cheeks as well. Some nature's mistake becomes one very lucky child's wonder.

Jisoo felt the youngest he would ever be in the moment.

"That's me," Jeonghan whispered. Jisoo nodded, not noticing when he started naturally adjusting as well. "I'm.. really impressed. You're no joke, one of the best students. Mrs Lee was right."

Jeonghan took step back and came back to his project.

"She says that about everyone." Jisoo chuckled. It didn't matter if it was the truth or not. He was just trying to save himself. "But yeah, thanks. I appreciate it."

"Time for you to see mine painting, right?"

Jisoo didn't care how keen his expression was when he answered.

"It's about time, yeah."

Meeting with a myriad of hues, a gentle light of the sun and very shy although hopeful wrinkles around the eyes took Jisoo off guard.

He was truly immersed.

He's been studying art for years, yet he couldn't recall which style, era could compare to Jeonghan's creation. It was a mix of all. The greatest and underrated too. The ones which took the breath away and ones which sent creeps down one's spine.

Jeonghan said he's amazing but comparing to his painting it felt nothing more than a humble compliment from a master. Although Jisoo never took classes at his, he felt greatly appreciated. To be simply perceived the way he'd never imagined himself to be.

"Say something," Jeonghan whispered, a concerned tone resonated and rang in Jisoo's ears. "Please?"

"I-It's.. so.. okay, fuck. I'm speechless. This is so good." Jisoo stuttered. " _Chapeau bas_.”

„ _Merci_.” Jeonghan tittered and looked down at his canvas, the blond locks gently covered the upper part of the painting, like a curtain. „I hoped you'd like it.”

Their eyes locked, for a short moment, Jisoo recalled the smell of gingerbread baking. As distanced memory became, its flames were reborn. In every part of his body. Palms of his hands, ears and eyes. Down his stomach, the first flash of fire.

He could hear the loud chatter of students behind his back as if someone played an old tape from December evening. Hazy, panoramic city on its own in the chains of light which brightly shined around Jeonghan's head - put in front of him like a collection of lost polaroids in a dusty box hidden in a wardrobe.

He remembered the way Jeonghan's consent words came out hesitant but body leaned towards him. The secure grip and soft but longing stare which said: this is why I whisper when things are supposed to happen on their own. They didn't need more. Words took away space for when the things were spoken.

How convinced he was that his early Christmas present was his forbidden apple and hunger for its ripeness. An unknown sweetness that shook in between Jeonghan's lean fingers that curled up in his wine-stained shirt and caressed a skin on his neck. Even stranger – the touch of his lips.

The past revealed itself clearly in front of him.

Though, Jisoo couldn't express how much of secondary character he felt in the play.

Jeonghan had a nervous habit. He always played with his hands. Needed, had to hold onto something or busy his hands at any time.

Jisoo noticed he bit his rosy-pink painted nails, he rotated the brushes between thumb and middle finger till he got lost in thoughts.

Which was rather occasional, Jisoo thought. He couldn't tell.

The silence Jeonghan needed, Jisoo could only respect and find his place inside it.

He acknowledged this observation. The image, the very revided yet fantom feeling of the fingers on his neck and arms revolved in his mind, as the brushes between Jeonghan's hands. Irrationally anxious rotation over and over again. As if something was about to happen, to blow out.

Jeonghan sat closer. He noticed Jisoo's sketchbook sticking out of his bag.

„Can I see?” he asked when the sky started to wear night's attire. Few stars were noticeable from the long windows of the studio, almost reaching the ceiling. Jisoo handed him the notebook with sketches.

He made sure to turn on the lights at the corners of the room and one above the desk nearby. Everything started to look intimate, resembling much smaller space which naturally closed the distance.

Before he remembered he was about to head home, he heard a small voice. Almost as if he heard it at the back of his head and wished the sound resonated and gave evidence out loud of being true.

„I don't want to go home yet.”

„Me neither,” he admitted and sat next to Jeonghan. „No one's gonna check here. We have plenty of time.”

The left corner of Jeonghan's lips lifted, his shoulders dropped. Jisoo mirrored the former gesture. The tension in his body was too present.

„So, how do you like them?” he gestured at the opened sketchbook. Jeonghan's tips of fingers held the sheets of paper gently and swayed it to the sides. He was nervous. Jisoo couldn't tell why.

„They're pretty,” he mumbled, holding back more. Jisoo ached to ask. „I like that you practice every day.”

„Oh, this. Yeah, kind of became a diary.” Jisoo stretched his arms tilted his head. „I draw something every day. Even a cup of coffee or.. I don't know, whatever I see.”

Jeonghan turned the pages slowly, his eyes jumped over every detail of the drawings. As a quiet artist he was, he didn't comment further. Jisoo sank into the comfort and softness of his silence.

He tried to read from the expressions instead. The smallest one brought out most. The blink, the lingering stare and almost unreachable movement of his cheeks going up at the sketch of pairs of boxers messily laying on top of the chair.

„I thought-” Jisoo cleared his throat, felt a need to say more.

The need was creeping in his bones as if the darkness around could quietly approach him and ask his heart to pour out. At one moment, like this, Jisoo felt comfortable sharing. Despite the feeling of falling since Jeonghan tucked his hair behind his ear and bit into his lip while painting him. What could he say? He had a weak spot for some small and universally appealing gestures. Even innocent motions, subliminally caressing senses ones.

„I thought that rather than writing I'll draw one thing every day. I'm not the best with words, so this was a good way to capture one most memorable thing about the day. More creative one too. But pretty damn challenging. Sometimes I find myself doodling in the middle of the night or the early morning. I lose my temper then.”

Jeonghan chuckled. The stars could be jealous of its sound. Even the lost moths, flying around the centre of light in the middle of the studio. It was always a melody, an ode to joy.

„I see.” Jeonghan hummed. „You don't seem to be one who loses temper often, actually.”

He closed the notebook and looked at him. Something in his expression changed, Jisoo felt as if he was one to turn quiet. He couldn't grasp the dynamics, the roles. Everything was changing as he remembered it to be.

The way Jeonghan'd agreed to the kiss but was left trembling. The way he'd deepened it but pulled away first. He got burnt but kindled the fire. All the time.

Jisoo's head began to hurt, he felt dizzy. But he was the one to blame. He hadn't had time for dinner and he also agreed to stay longer, closed in the studio with the person he wanted to avoid and encounter at once. Mixed feelings.

„Uh, yeah. Well, usually I don't,” he confessed and followed Jeonghan stare's trail. Anywhere but his lips. „But like for everyone else, sometimes it just happens. Then it explodes.”

Jeonghan straightened his legs in front and looked at his swinging feet. He hummed, more to himself than Jisoo and peeked up. „What happens after the explosion?”

Jisoo didn't realise he began to play with the material of his sweater but finding a hole reminded him. He didn't notice it before. He only knew it was an old sweater.

„Then, uh, I guess everything comes out.”

„Mhm.” Jeonghan nodded. Jisoo reminded himself it's winter. The heat inside him was the only thing keeping him warm in the darkness. Between the thin walls of the studio, he found himself shrinking into it, along with dissolving words between him and Jeonghan. Everything began to spin around one memory and one sensation.

„So I prefer to wait till it's all gone even if it means some things never comes out,” he added and felt his stomach grumbling.

Only then he noticed, how truly deep his hunger was.

„You've never shown me this!” Mingyu stole his sketchbook, Jisoo stole the last piece of his cheesecake and rolled his eyes. „So private.”

„You never asked.”

Mingyu pouted, the steam of the tea danced around his face flushed from the cold outside. He looked much younger. With cheeks full of cake, even child-like.

„Fair.” he pouted more if it's possible but Jisoo adored it. „Hey, what does this mean? Did you write down dates or names?”

Jisoo bit his lower lip and threw his head back. The story was long.

„This one is from yesterday and shit-- sorry but this has a lot of doodles. It's so messy.” Mingyu as professionally as he could point to tiny notes in the corner of the page. His finger covered the letters but Jisoo didn't need to read to know.

He still felt the effects of the written words. Acronyms, to be exact. He felt them in his dizziness, heaviness in his head and chest and pain inside various parts of the body. Most of them hurt more than his heart did. And thank God for that, he thought.

„Do you want to make it more fun?” he raised an eyebrow and played with the spoon inside the cup of tea.

He hasn't tried even a sip. His aching throat needed it but just the smell of the drink made him recall the art studio by evening and quiet chuckling resonating in dark space.

Jisoo didn't become a ghostbuster. He became a collector. An admirer of haunting memories and conflicts. Felt at ease with his sleepless mind and various, failing coping mechanisms to reduce the pain and very very increasing confusion within him.

Except it wasn't true.

He hated being misled. But it was all he felt around Jeonghan.

When Jeonghan asked him to help him decorate his apron cause „Everyone has a cute apron, mine is blank! Help me!” he painted the prettiest flowers he could. He didn't tease Jeonghan for his trembling hands that brushed against his many times. He asked to grab dinner together but Jeonghan declined it in a matter of a second and disappeared. Just like that.

The day after his portrait was finished, he sat down and stared at it. During the break when everyone was smoking or getting a breakfast his eyes fixated on his reflection in Jeonghan's eyes. The boy wasn't present that day. Mrs Lee shook her head, displeased.

Jisoo felt Jeonghan's absence closer than his presence.

His mind haunted him, till he couldn't take it.

„You sure you want it?” Minghao asked him from the far when they were about to leave but Jisoo's eyes closed to the touch of a stranger kissing his neck. The party wasn't even coming to an end.

„Yeah,” he said and let his friend leave alone.

His clouded mind didn't remember the stranger's face. Nor his name. He was as blank and temporary as everything around at the days he couldn't bear his own thoughts.

Jisoo noticed Mingyu's staring down. His neck wasn't exactly exposed but the guy seemed to have a thing for it. Hickeys were visible.

„Probably not as fun as yesterday's night.” Mingyu teased, but in a rather sad tone. Jisoo didn't need empathy or compassion. Insight was troubling. He didn't lose control just to analyse his mistakes the next day. He needed oblivion. „But yes, let's make it fun!”

„What was your grade in school from chemistry?”

„A” Mingyu grinned. Jisoo whistled impressed.

„Okay, wow. Okay then, master. Might be studying the wrong thing, then. Do you recognise anything from Mendeleev's table here?”

The boy leaned in and stared at the letters. It was endearing to see how engaged he could turn out to be even if the situation didn't need it. Jisoo didn't dare to play him dirty. He had a soft spot for this boy. He joked more with his ego than he could ever fool Mingyu.

„Sometimes when I draw or paint I drink or take something, I note it down next to the sketch. I wanted to check how various substances influence the creative process. I used to mention the doses. Nowadays I just mention what I used. Helps with the flow and concentration.”

Mingyu gasped. He wasn't saint himself, Jisoo saw things, Jisoo also sniffed things off his collarbones but his expression turned into concerned nonetheless.

Jisoo noticed his furrowed, bushy brows. Mingyu was deep in thought and whatever conclusion he came across Jisoo was sure he didn't score high on his friend's list. He could just hope he didn't become his subjective peak of demoralisation.

They had a history together. Jisoo couldn't imagine Mingyu turning his back on him.

„You know..” he started quietly.

„Yeah?”

„I want to try this too.”

Jisoo felt hit by the lightning.

„Mingyu, no.”

„Mingyu, yes.”

Wonwoo visited their table and took the plate with crumbs, sending questioning look towards Jisoo when Mingyu quickly closed his sketchbook in front of him. His eyes didn't hide any hint of apology. More of a secret. Dirty one.

Jisoo felt like a recidivist. For various reasons.

„Are you telling me you're high in the middle of the class?”

„No.”

Mingyu hiccuped and continued painting. It was a very colourful project but ask the author about the subject - he had no clue and could only mention that creativity isn't about defining. It's about the flow. Or something like that.

Jisoo couldn't believe Mingyu, how could he attend class this shit-faced.

„Count your days, no wait. Count your fucking hours.” Minghao kicked his stool. Jisoo closed his eyes and indeed counted. Till he reached 10 seconds and got calm again. Breathing exercises were helpful around Minghao. „How could you smoke with this dumbass before the class?”

„I didn't smoke,” he replied, tone harsh, husky but it was nothing but the effect of smoking.

Weed. He smoked weed with Mingyu.

Jisoo didn't feel like fighting. Since he was supposed to be dead within hours it didn't make sense. Minghao's threats were real.

If they weren't, he would make sure they were taken seriously. Both lead to death. Jisoo was always in third place on the podium. Or one leg in a coffin.

„Oh, sure.” Minghao crossed his arms, yet still stood to admire Jisoo's painting. He also had no idea what his creation was presenting. The flow theory worked pretty well to his absolutely-sober mind. „No offence but you look like shit and now you decide to smell like one, too. Have some respect for yourself.”

„Can't see the forest for the trees.” Jisoo pointed out. „You know you have always the best weed. Why do you act like a little bitch? Is it a problem now?”

Minghao didn't comment on that. Only answer Jisoo got was the touch of his hands on his shoulder and tap before he left.

Jisoo shrugged and continued his work till the break.

Jeonghan ran late into the class, on the second half. Mrs Lee gestured him to take his place which became a space next to Jisoo's easel.

Taking his chance of doing free form once again Jisoo listened to music on the headphones and disconnected from the surroundings. No one dared to step into his way.

Minghao treated him with silent minutes because Jisoo knew silent days couldn't work between them. Even if the matter was as important and big as stoned Mingyu, spilling paint and making the teacher suspicious. Problems always disappeared on their own eventually.

Sometimes Jisoo could suspect Minghao of not being able to hold grudges against him. Which sounded impossible, knowing his nature and very exposed to the core self that Jisoo learned within years.

The fact was Jisoo could only take out his left headphone for Seokmin. But the boy seemed as invested in his work as Jisoo was. And judging by his distanced and too-quiet-for-his-usual-facade he was going through something as well. Maybe stress before display, possibly any other similar trivial matter.

He couldn't ever question his existence. Nor his ongoing ruminations about past. Any abstracts. He didn't have time or headspace for this.

Jisoo was glad about this fact. Seokmin didn't deserve such useless worries. Thoughts about one's place in the world and the meaning of life occurred his mind enough for them both.

„Hi.”

It took a cold bucket of water splashed into his face to turn around and notice. Tips of fingers tracing along his shoulder as delicately as eastern wind and hesitant touch that was Jeonghan's hand.

Jisoo looked up. He almost fell from his stool.

„Didn't mean to scare you, sorry.”

The nature of ghosts was enigmatic. Yet they often appeared at the very thought of them. Jisoo didn't know much about it but he could almost believe he could bring a dead to life with how much his mind orbited around their spirit.

Jeonghan, if could, would always appear within fog dancing around him. Despite his bright appearance his person always approached with ambiguity and dimness.

In Jisoo's mind, he kept leaving and coming back.

Or that's what Jisoo was trying to run away from last time. Trying to leave his self in the sake of making Jeonghan leave his mind.

Though the outlook depended on the situation you are placed in, Jisoo felt stuck.

He took out the headphone, magically making it tangle with the cable more than before. Everything worked in his favour those days, he believed. It didn't.

„It's fine,” he said and let their eyes meet for the first time again. It never felt familiar. Always strange and unreachable.

„It seems you did a free form again.” Jeonghan noticed, smiling and pointing to Jisoo's painting. „Would you mind if I joined you here?”

Jeonghan gestured to the easel right next to Jisoo. With barely any space, meter or two he noticed it wasn't the best place when it came to the lighting. Neither he could imagine himself working there with all the tools he had with him. It looked like the worst workplace Jeonghan could choose from the broad, spacious studio.

He cocked an eyebrow and just shook his head.

What could mean even if he said otherwise if his heart skipped the beat? And when Jeonghan bit on his wide, very not-ashamed smile. He dressed extra nicely that day, too. His hair was styled. Oh, and they were dyed grey this time.

Jisoo turned up the volume of the song currently playing.

He never got to listen to ballad so violently before.


	4. i think that i'm crazy

In the span of his short life, Jisoo noticed some people work like magnets. South pole pulls North one. Cold leans toward warmth.

Met with withdrawal, Jeonghan attracted him closer.

Jisoo showed up with more hickeys. Jeonghan offered study dates.

Jisoo avoided eye contact. Jeonghan fought for it.

During the last class, Jisoo brought him coffee, receiving an envious eye roll from Minghao across the studio. Jeonghan shied away from it but thanked him sweetly. Jisoo couldn't tell if he wasn't hungover that day but something about it made him cautious and even more dizzy.

„Don't you get tired of constantly balancing on a thin line and trying not to fall?” Minghao asked him and blew the smoke into his face.

„Don't you get tired of being tiring?” Jisoo coughed and stole his cigarette.

„Great, high-class comedy ripostes aside.” his friend poked him into the arm and leaned his head back on the wall. „You know you're the one giving mixed signals too, right?”

Jisoo knew.

Friday nights were nothing but the blind path to abyss. Faceless strangers were just puppets in his theatre. Art classes became execution, with his heart's an offender. Jisoo swam in icy ocean to be burnt by sweltering Sun second later.

Saying he felt frustrated would be a euphemism.

Jeonghan sat in front of him and only the beaming, overly-enthusiastic voice of waiter reminded Jisoo of his place and the current situation.

Studying, he came there to have a warm drink and help Jeonghan with his upcoming exam.

„Need anything else?”

Wonwoo looked expectantly on Jisoo. Mingyu must heard everything Minghao knew from Jisoo.

Everyone working in the cafe must be knowing Jisoo was a coward.

Jisoo blinked and nudged Jeonghan under the table. The boy peeked up with parted lips. Sleep remains were still visible in the corner of his eyes. Sometimes Jeonghan seemed as if he also were capable of wearing two wrong socks in a morning rush, have flaws and this way - be perfectly human.

It didn't help Jisoo at all. His finger itched to grab a tissue and take off last bits of long night sleep from Jeonghan's eyes. Tease him about it. Being the cause of his smile.

But only then he'd truly take into account how desperately he kept running away to meet the same dead-end each time. And for now, he wanted nothing but to help Jeonghan catch up with material for the unaccomplished mid-term exam.

Jisoo was a good person. Lent a hand when one needed it.

„Do you want anything? It's on me.” Jisoo asked. Jeonghan looked surprised. There was nothing more heart-fluttering than paying for a meal at their age being this broke and careful about every cent.

Jeonghan appeared hesitant and stuck his tongue out, biting on it. „How about your best cake for two?” Wonwoo seemed pleased to hear such a question.

„One piece for two?”

He must be one always there to tease him for breathing as well, Jisoo acknowledged.

Jeonghan nodded and glanced towards Jisoo.

„Yeah, let's try.”

The smirk widening across Wonwoo's face was very telling. So was his kick under the table when he brought the dessert. Something about taking elbows off the table's surface was screaming in his gesture. Something about Jisoo not being a coward and admit to himself that _everyone knew_ , too.

Jisoo furrowed his brows and mouthed punishable threats to him.

Mingyu was one dead man.

In between studying dates – that's what Minghao called them – Jisoo found himself playing basketball in the middle of the week in the pouring rain.

The evening was warm, he tried to convince himself as his jaw started to tremble. Clenching his teeth he hissed when got splashed with water by the ball which bumped into a puddle in front of him.

„Fuck.”

„Language.” Jisoo didn't even turn when he heard a familiar voice. The hint of amusement danced around one word.

His shoulders dropped.

„Minghao, I'm busy trying to stay in shape. Cleansing my mind and stuff. You know how things are nowad-”

Cough.

Jisoo turned.

„So far you've been doing everything to fall sick.” Minghao cocked an eyebrow and put his left hand into the pocket. Left hand held the umbrella. Underneath it, next to him also a familiar face.

„Jeonghan,” he whispered. The rain soaked Jisoo wholly, the place under the umbrella looked warmer, untouched by raindrops. He didn't expect to see him there. „Hi.”

„Hello to you Jisoo, too.” Minghao dead-panned and made Jeonghan chuckle. „Out of your mind enough to forget about me?”

Jisoo took the ball and rolled his eyes. „I wish. What are you doing here?”

„We went to an exhibition nearby. Jeonghan had homework to do.” Minghao explained.

Jeonghan looked between them two, burying his nose deep into a scarf. He clearly didn't seem to befriend cold as Jisoo tried to nowadays but oh well, Jeonghan probably didn't have an ongoing spiral of burning urges.

Before he opened his mouth to speak he coughed. „I had to pick a painting and write about it. I dragged him along with me.” Jeonghan grabbed Minghao's arm as wide grin bloomed across his face.

Jisoo bounced the ball and tried to score. He didn't.

He wasn't improving, one could tell clearly.

Minghao snorted, Jisoo sent him a death glare. An idea of throwing the ball into his face was very tempting.

„So how was it? Did you have fun?” he asked, unbothered. Minghao didn't believe any of it. He came with a mission or task. As always he did. His presence was never incidental.

They looked at each other. Jisoo understood why it always rains during sad scenes in all dramas he ever watched.

He also understood where Minghao was going with this conversation.

„Yes.” Jeonghan smiled and tucked hair behind his ear. Jisoo knew the first attempt was always a fail, likely a nervous habit. The only second time his fingers found the strands of hair again they were put in the right place. Not that he noticed. Not that he knew Jeonghan felt stressed now, standing in front of him. For whatever reason that was.

„I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me but I couldn't reach you.”

Jisoo began to feel the emptiness of his back pockets of his shorts more than before.

„Oh, uh.” his mouth felt dry. „Sorry, I left my phone at home. The battery ran out.”

Jeonghan nodded quickly and looked down. „It's okay. Minghao agreed to go with me.”

Did he see the disappointment in Jeonghan's face or was he just hopeful, Minghao probably could answer. Jisoo refused to let him lead this conversation.

„He can be a good friend,” Jisoo said approaching them. His shorts felt wet and his ears were turning into icicles. How much he hated winter, only v formations of flying abroad birds could know. „But uh, sorry for this. I know I promised to help you with catching up but today's been quite busy and.. yeah, anyways. What are you doing here?”

Minghao was smart. Too smart. Often, it was just a play of his gut feeling. He knew what was right and could see through people. Jisoo acknowledged when his silence was deafening but face non-judging. Maybe quite expectant.

If Jisoo was learning how to make first steps, Minghao didn't hold his hand and help. He could only tell him how important is to go forward and how far can one go.

That was nothing but the release of trigger in the gun. Minghao didn't care for the aim. He wanted to see Jisoo's finger unchained from the ring. And see the gunpowder dripping.

„I had a feeling you'd be here,” Minghao said. „So we wanted to check and thank a common sense we did. You're going to freeze your ass off, idiot.”

Jisoo couldn't hide the smile.

„You're lucky we're here.” the boy dragged him under the umbrella. The space didn't allow three people to stay underneath it but sometimes determination worked better than physical properties of the universe and the construction of objects. „Now, wear this. We're going home.”

And Jisoo accepted the invitation, the warm beanie from Jeonghan and being squeezed to the maximum between their bodies until the very long way home.

Jeonghan sat at their spot. The one existed, indeed. Cosy corner with pillows, fake Ikea plants and desk wide enough to provide a good working place. Some students took the privilege of studying in the library too seriously and occupied, reserved spaces in the desk as if they tried to protect their property. Things could go quite personal. Theft of pens was frequent too.

Jisoo's fingers curled up into material of the beanie. He stood in the entrance staring at Jeonghan.

When he finally made his way to their spot, Jeonghan greeted him with the early arrival of spring and other joyful metaphoric ways to introduce and describe Jisoo's favourite smile. He wasn't ashamed of being such a goner.

„Here, forgot it last time.” he gave the hat and sat next to him. „Thank you. You saved my ears from freezing.”

Jeonghan played with the hat between his fingers before he looked up. „It's nothing.”

„It's everything.” He convinced. „I hate being sick.”

The ugly, loud coughing he heard afterwards reminded him of the reason behind his statement. Jeonghan's face got red from coughing and his eyes watered. Jisoo's face went blank.

„Yeah, I might have an idea why.” Jeonghan coughed with a smile.

The wave of guilt was inevitable around him but the truth was - Jisoo genuinely began to feel more comfortable around Jeonghan in the following days. He tried to push away intrusive thoughts and doubts. Instead, he found comfort and happiness in his company. Being by his side resembled diving into depths of the abyss but Jisoo was willing to befriend it. Along with the cold and hot.

In Jeonghan's silence and presence, he was trying to find his place.

But this time he couldn't stand the idea he made Jeonghan sick in the sake of his own health.

„Shit. Don't tell me it's my fault.” he pleaded.

Jeonghan looked amused, he scrunched his nose and sniffed. „It's fine. I've felt something caught me some time ago.” His voice came off as muffled, small. How easily cold made a person innocent, fragile.

„You sure you want to study now? You should be in bed.” Jisoo scanned his face. Jeonghan must noticed because he shied away and looked into his notebook.

„Yes, it's not a big deal.”

„You want a hoodie or tea? I can bring one, the automat is outside the library. The tea one I mean. Don't know any hoodie automats here but that'd be pretty cool.” Jisoo asked, pointing at the entrance and searching for a small change in his pocket. When he felt a hand on his own he suddenly froze and peeked up.

„Jisoo, you're sweet but I promise I'm okay.”

His gaze noticed Jisoo's taken aback expression, Jeonghan slowly pulled his hand away and licked his lips. „I had tea earlier.”

Jisoo nodded and unpacked his notebooks, fidgeting in his seat. He felt weird, he felt funny. His touched, infected skin sent tingling sensation through his arms to the back of his head.

Obsessions weren't healthy. Neither was spending over 3h in the company of a person with advanced cold but Jisoo couldn't stop smiling as he typed in the messages to his friend.

_isn't the automat for hoodies basically just a clothes shop?_

_too much sugar kills, even ones with a sweet tooth. don't take pride in being the first step to someone's diabetes_ , Minghao replied.

Jisoo rolled his eyes and ignored thumping in his heart when he noticed Jeonghan's staring after he put away his phone.

„Uh, right. Have you finished or do you need more time?”

Jeonghan's movements and answers were slowed down due to his health condition. Jisoo tried to believe the reason differed this time when his eyes drawn into Jisoo's.

„I'm almost done.”

„Okay.”

Jeonghan came back to writing until he stopped and squinted his eyes. Jisoo knew his handwriting wasn't the fanciest. He didn't take extra care of its public image unlike Seokmin did. He tended to rush when he noted. Many things about him seemed to be chasing time nowadays.

„Need help? My hieroglyphs caused problems before. I'm the last discoverer and expert when it comes to this dead language.”

„Hieroglyphs..” Jeonghan shook his head and continued writing. A smile danced around the corners of his lips. „ If you only saw Soonyoung's handwriting. Yours is Times New Roman compared to his Comic Sans aspiring doodles.”

Jisoo frowned and continued to observe Jeonghan's noting hand. He wasn't sure what to do with such information.

Jeonghan peeked up and bit into his lips, repressing the laughter. „It was a compliment!”

„I'm deeply flattered.” he teased. Jeonghan started coughing and covering his face, blush spreading on his cheeks.

„That was the best I could come up with.”

Jisoo grabbed a package of tissues from his pockets and gave it to Jeonghan when he was about to sneeze. His sniffing had been going on for the last five minutes. Normally Jisoo would snap person's neck but Jeonghan had the privilege and maybe soft spot from Jisoo.

„How did you know I was about to sneeze?” Jeonghan asked, his voice turned husky and weak. Jisoo's guts kicked him in an odd, new way. His attraction to him only grew more ridiculous within time.

„I had a feeling,” he admitted. „And you seem to be cold so I prefer giving you tissues before you wipe your nose into my hoodie.”

Jeonghan opened his mouth but no words came out.

Instead, he sneezed.

His astonished expression made Jisoo feel extra more confident in what he was doing despite having no clue inside what pushed him to take off his hoodie and nonchalantly hand it to Jeonghan.

Tsunderes could learn a lot from him.

The clothing fitted Jeonghan perfectly. The scent of his cologne clung into hoodie when Jisoo wore it on his way home. Quite dazed, quite giddy.

He might be actually enjoying taking care of Jeonghan more than he would admit.

Playing Chinese whispers was a tricky game. Sender and the final recipient both owned different information in the end. The information was supposed to be passed with the highest accuracy from one to another till it reached the last person. The very recipient had to say what they hear out loud.

„I don't want to date him, oh my fucking God.”

Minghao snorted.

„You're a walking catastrophe.”

Jisoo looked at him but quickly checked the surroundings first before he leaned closer.

„It's Mingyu's fault, right? He can't ever shut up.”

Minghao continued painting as if the brought up the topic was nothing but current sunny weather. Even if Jisoo kept plucking his hair from his hair nervously whole morning it didn't matter. What mattered was fun. And it was a big one since everyone in the class had the idea who is Jisoo's heartthrob. His crush. Tall and handsome. Good face. Whatever they called him.

He hated these words. He also hated how easily lies can spread nowadays. Critical thinking was truly on extinction.

„Since when one-night stand becomes an invitation to date me?”

Minghao cocked an eyebrow. The purple paint spilt into his hand but he paid no mind. „Maybe since you attended his match, had a drink together and dunno-” Minghao shrugged. „Fucked with him twice?”

Jisoo pinched the bridge of his nose. „And that's an equivalent of romance?”

Minghao spared him a glance. A short one. That's how much he dared to look into new celebrity's eyes. Jisoo felt sick. He also wanted to call his manager to get out of here.

„The question is what is your equivalent of romance?”

„Absolutely not this shit that has been spread everywhere.” he hissed. It was hard to whisper and sound aggressive and threatening but he tried. „I have no interest in Seungcheol. He's nice, okay. Had his needs too but that's it. Why is everyone seeking a sensation?”

Minghao fixed his fringe. It was too long but if Jisoo told him to go to the hairdresser he'd get hit so he didn't say a word. „Nothing interesting is happening and it's always fun to talk about potential couples here. Plus if you're gay then it's bigger fun.”

Jisoo opened his mouth but quickly closed it.

„Besides, we live in a society that thrives off sensations and fake news. When it revolves around sex it becomes a hit. You're on everyone's lips. You see, you live in a small society that is this studio. Everyone here has their place in the hierarchy and has their crops to harvest. Everyone has their own opinion about you and others.”

Jisoo frowned and looked at his friend.

„Did you smoke before?”

Minghao wiggled his eyebrows at him and smiled.

„Did I?”

Jisoo punched him but ended up laughing into his shoulder.

Jisoo didn't attend Seungcheol's next match. He also declined the offer to hang out and meet at his afterwards.

On the rainy Thursday, he promised to collect his notes for Jeonghan and meet up their spot in the library.

Jeonghan waited with the essentials which consisted of his notebook, big cup of americano and pastel highlighters. He was that student.

Jisoo greeted him and sat next to him, taking few more seconds to look at him than last time. The boy looked healthier, the colour was back on his cheeks and glimmering spark in his eyes was alive.

„Hi. It's been a while.” Jeonghan purred and leaned into the table, hand supported his head as he stared at Jisoo. His gaze was serene, warm and skin poreless. Dermatologists must hate him.

„Hey. Yeah, that's true. Sorry, I've been busy.” he massaged his eyes and sighed. „Didn't mean to come late. Sorry about that, too.”

Jeonghan titled his head and smiled. „Heard so. A lot must be happening?”

Jisoo looked up at him. „You know, too?”

The boy only nodded and bit into his lower lip. Jisoo knew he wanted to laugh but didn't dare to. „Maybe too much.”

It brought his attention. Was there something Jeonghan knew but Jisoo didn't? Most probably, since his name didn't leave first page and headlines of the newspaper these days.

„Mind elaborating on that?” Jisoo asked in his neutral tone as he unpacked and searched for recent notes. He admired stoicism and how helpful it was at times. Some doctrines were life-saving, but he wouldn't admit it out loud. Along with many other things.

Maybe he missed Jeonghan's company over the past week of avoiding him.

„You slept with my ex.”

Jisoo froze. His whole inner system crashed down but panic inside the pit of his stomach was alive. In such moments only thing remaining rational is asking more questions. Even if they born new ones. And new ones. And new ones.

The circle never ended.

Jisoo didn't feel punched, he felt losing another round on the ring and watching his spit with blood and teeth falling onto the ground.

„W-what?”

Jeonghan giggled. He giggled, Jisoo repeated in his mind as he stared, shocked.

„We were a thing a few years ago. Old story. We don't talk nowadays but he's a great guy.”

Jisoo felt dumbfounded. None of his thoughts was coherent, neither were words he sputtered. „You must be shitting me right now.”

Jeonghan flushed. Redness sat high on his cheeks and tips of ears. He seemed caught. He was clearly abashed. „I-I'm serious. We dated.”

Jisoo sat silent. He didn't notice Jeonghan's changing expression and urge to tell more. For someone fond of silence, he became one to break it. „So when I heard about it I was surprised but that, uh, would explain why were you busy last week.”

Air became thick and short space between them was trapping. Jisoo didn't want to notice but the silencing last words curled up on Jeonghan's tongue the way he felt guilty. He didn't want for Jeonghan to believe this. All of this drama was pointless. The drama he didn't even start himself but was part of.

„I-I.. that's not true. It's not the main reason why I was busy.”

Jeonghan didn't look up, instead, he played with his pen. His hands spun it around and around. „Is that so?”

„Uh, yeah?” Jisoo didn't stop looking at him even if the boy avoided their eyes to meet. „I'm not even interested in him. It was.. just one night.”

„One-night stand?” Jeonghan's smile was sad. Jisoo wanted the floor to sink him in. „You're gonna break his heart, Jisoo.”

Jisoo cleared his throat but the sound came off as loud. His throat felt pierced by a thousand thorns and suffocating.

He was sure he heard some heart breaking in the distance, too.


	5. and there you are, beautiful just like the first time

„You good?”

Jisoo downed the bottle of beer and wiped his mouth with the paws of his blouse.

„Thriving, Hao. Living my best life.”

„I see.” the boy leaned his head on the shoulder and watched the fireworks explode in the pitch-black night sky.

The sight would be breathtaking if Jisoo didn't fixate his gaze on Jeonghan standing a few meters away and looking up. Like a child, admiring colourful spectacle above his head in awe.

Tonight, that was one of fanciest, most hyped birthday party he's been to. He never saw strippers in a living room before. And pyrotechnic cold fire show.

Though, he was impressed nothing monumental could take off his mind from the casual, daily sight of the person he hasn't seen for days.

„You know..” Minghao began talking. „It died a natural death. That's promising. Everyone stopped talking about it.”

Jisoo sneered. „He hasn't looked me into eye since we talked about it. It's been fucking weeks.”

Minghao took an empty bottle from him, seeing it balancing in tips of Jisoo's fingers, about to break. He placed it next to them and cuddled into the boy's side. „Maybe he needs more time.”

Jisoo shook his head. He knew Jeonghan didn't need more time.

Jisoo knew he heard about all one-night stands and connected the dots each time Jisoo showed up with hickeys late to their study date. 

When he declined chances to go out together and came to meetings a bit late. Childishly giving off the impression that he didn't look forward to seeing his face once more and give himself a chance that maybe, this one time, things won't go back and his mind won't replay the December evening with a taste of tequila on his tongue.

Yet again, each time Jisoo lied to himself, he lied to what he longed for.

And Jeonghan could only think Jisoo didn't care about him which was far from the truth.

Quite melodramatic for nothing, Jisoo admitted when he saw people dancing around him but Jeonghan sat alone. He didn't need to make such a big fuss of one kiss and one impression that Jeonghan waited for his first move.

He could simply befriend Jeonghan. Not turn him into the enemy of his own consciousness.

Something clicked when Jeonghan noticed Jisoo's staring across the room. Almost as if he waited, almost as this was supposed to happen.

He didn't approach him.

They met in the bathroom with dimmed light and only space allowing to breathe since every room was occupied.

Jeonghan wanted to ask what he was doing there probably but Jisoo could only catch him when the boy swayed on his legs and when the mumbled words left his lips. His limbs became as lose as feather rushed by the gust of wind. Jisoo embraced carefully his waist with arm and leaned his left arm to his shoulder.

„If anyone is fucking here please leave, this is a drunk emergency.”

The room was dark but some silent voice answered back.

„We are thinking.”

Jisoo rolled his eyes and groaned. „About what?”

„Life, I guess.”

„That's even more dangerous, now please leave.”

The stranger turned out to be Jun, he ruffled Jisoo's hair and smiled as he escaped. Jisoo knew that it was a matter of time until someone knocked on the door and checked what was going on. Jun had a big mouth, too.

And the thing was – nothing was going on.

Until it was.

Jeonghan was placed on the bed, breathing steadily and slowly. Half asleep, wasted. His wet from sweat silver locks stuck to his forehead, one hand resting next to his head high and one on his stomach.

It wasn't the first time Jisoo took care of a drunk person at a party. The times were countless.

He shifted closer with a bottle of water and waited till Jeonghan opened his eyes.

„Slowly,” he whispered, his fingers found themselves between the boy's fringe, brushing it off his eyes.

„Jisoo?”

Jisoo nodded but then remembered it's dark, Jeonghan couldn't see. „Yes, it's me.”

The slow shifting in the bedsheets resonated in the room, Jisoo couldn't hear anything else besides his thumping heart. „Did I- Oh, I- uh. Sorry. Had too much.” he giggled and sighed heavily at the end. „Sorry for causing you problem.”

„S' okay.” Jisoo shushed him and sighed as well. „It's late, the party's slowly dying. Everyone's tired.”

Jeonghan grumbled and turned on his side. Jisoo noticed the curve of his hip and legs. He was close. „Jisoo?”

„Yeah?”

His question came out softly but plainly. „Why are you avoiding me?”

Jisoo knew his head was hurting and felt full, his eyes were heavy but Jeonghan's presence was even more intoxicating. Alcohol made one do stupid things, reckless things. He didn't think much when he answered.

„I felt guilty.”

Jeonghan purred, something in answer. His silence was thick, was unbearable now.

„I- feel guilty cause I promised to help you but I had dates and ah, fuck. I know what you must be thinking of me. This was unfair.”

Jeonghan hummed and shifted closer. „Is there something troubling you?” His question wasn't invasive but Jisoo felt as if he stepped into a minefield. Every word he had to take into account and weight it.

„Yeah, uh.” he shook his head and felt dizzy. „Some things like to come back and occupy my mind a lot. I can't stop overthinking then and it becomes burdensome. So I look for an escape. Otherwise, I would explode.”

„And everything would come out,” Jeonghan added, Jisoo felt goosebumps on his skin. He nodded, not caring that Jeonghan didn't see. He didn't need a gesture to know he was right.

Then, like a ghost of the night, he felt a touch on his skin. Jeonghan's fingers traced the skin of his arm, aware of the shivers.

„That's why you kept sleeping around and avoiding me. Something was troubling your mind so much you couldn't look me into eyes..” he continued and Jisoo's eyes were about to fall down from their orbits. Almost as if a spider crawled into his skin, Jeonghan's fingers' trial kept making him shiver and freeze in place. He didn't know what to do.

He couldn't move and speak.

„And when I warned you, you stopped. Y-you..” Jeonghan stopped too and took his hand back. Jisoo let out silent breath out, although missing the touch already. „You kept avoiding me, but I did it too. Why is it this way?”

„Jeonghan, I'm-”

„You know something I don't know, something that enlivens each time you see me. What is it?”

His heartbeat was erratic and his entire skin started to sweat which was a rather annoying habit. But once cortisol level was high he could only escape or feel drown.

Jeonghan moved till he was sitting next to him and brushed his fringe between his fingers, sighing. „You feel guilty.”

Jisoo found the tongue in his mouth again. „I-I do.”

The silence afterwards wasn't long, but every second felt like eternity passing. Jeonghan spoke again. „I felt guilty once too. On one, Christmas party I kissed a boy. It was my first time. I felt conflicted cause I wanted to kiss him but I didn't want my first kiss to be a stupid dare in the drunk game. You understand?”

Jisoo started shaking but thanked for the existence of night, whispers and darkness. Their illusion covered him like attire.

„I-I do.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly and leaned into the backrest of the bed. Jisoo could only see his moving silhouette. Nothing else. If he didn't speak Jisoo could believe he had alcohol paranoia.

But everything was too evident. His pounding heavily heart, the sweat streaming down on his temples, the warmth of Jeonghan's body and his smell along with words that undressed Jisoo from all confidence and rationality.

His mind circled around the sensation his skin still felt after the touch.

„I kissed him,” Jeonghan said, his voice wary but daring at once. „I kissed him and I wanted more. I wanted him.”

Jisoo shut his eyes and bit his tongue till he no longer could stand the pain. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. With anybody else but with Jeonghan.

Except it wasn't true. He wanted to know more, to hear more. To speak more even if each word stuck in his throat like a hostage.

„But I pulled away. I thought I was too eager. And I wanted too much. I thought-” he stopped and took a breath in. „I thought that it may be the last chance to ever kiss him. I was so conflicted, Jisoo.” he stuttered, sad tone sinking in his voice. „But I let him go and he never came back until I saw him and regretted this night over again.”

Jisoo opened his mouth and moved closer, feeling the warmth radiating from the boy's body. Closer and closer.

The room shrank into space between them.

Everything felt like a fever dream. A hazy alternative universe with buzzing sounds of music downstairs and tension thick, possible to cut with a knife. Jisoo couldn't breathe without feeling its slick edge on his neck and tongue. He could almost smell blood. 

„I-I need to tell you something.” he looked up and found lines of Jeonghan's face in front of him. „T-that boy.. was me.”

Jeonghan didn't answer at first. His hand slowly but precisely found Jisoo's face in the darkness within a few seconds. Long seconds, that made Jisoo shiver again. The fingers cupped his cheek gently when he closed his mouth and put at ease shallow breathing.

Jeonghan sighed and moved closer, too. Jisoo didn't remember the existence of personal space when all his senses could only decipher Jeonghan's presence. His smell, his breath, his warmth, his stare and his voice.

He was as close as a distant memory could bloom in the middle of forgotten, cold winter.

The corners of Jeonghan's mouth curved up, Jisoo noticed. „I need to tell you something too, Jisoo,” he whispered over his lips. Jisoo leaned closer, minimally making his lower lip meet with Jeonghan's. Jeonghan smiled and closed the gap between them, slowly and delicately.

It was a peck but Jisoo melted into the touch of Jeonghan's hand and sighed when the boy pulled away.

„I knew it was you.” 

One entry in Jisoo's diary was empty. His head was full of memories and body overwhelmed with sensations that drowned him in, again and again, the whole morning. He stared into a sketchbook and couldn't draw the first line.

His clouded mind could only revolve around not one night but two.

„Is that a necklace?” Mingyu asked, appearing from nowhere as always. He sipped on orange juice, claiming it's healthier than another coffee. Jisoo couldn't argue with that.

„Yup,” he muttered. His pencil almost broke in his hand when Minghao jumped into his back. „What the fuck-?!”

The boy tittered and leaned to whisper into his ear. „Birdies sang about you again.”

Jisoo shook Minghao off him and bit into his lip when he heard loud slam. Minghao fell right on the floor and hissed. „Sorry.”

„As I was saying-” Minghao got up and rolled his eyes. „I heard about last night.”

Of course, he did, Jisoo thought. Jun was at the party. So was Mingyu. And Minghao.

Jisoo knew everyone in the class probably knew already but this time he didn't care.

A peck on the lips never killed anybody, that for certain. Even if Jisoo found his knees going weak when he recalled the scene over again. He didn't ask for more, once Jeonghan revealed his identity, uncovering very own mirror in front of Jisoo.

And quite hungrily he kissed him deeper, as a remedy for past sickening longing and pulled him closer by the silver necklace hanging loosely on his neck.

Jisoo felt the heat growing inside his chest and ears. He couldn't control it.

„Who hasn't?” Jisoo stopped drawing and put the sketchbook on his lap. „Right, Mingyu?”

The boy almost choked on his drink, Jisoo almost felt bad for him till he saw his lips widening across his face. „What are you saying- I didn't see anything! Jun did!”

„You just perfectly confirmed his assumptions, genius.” Minghao cooed and pinched Mingyu's cheek. „Living off sensations, huh?”

Mingyu was about to open his mouth and argue when Jisoo's eyes spotted Jeonghan approaching them.

Jisoo ignored Mingyu's babbling cause once he noticed Jeonghan's amused expression he didn't care for anything else.

Jeonghan remembered him. He knew it was him all along.

The cafe was full in the afternoon hours. Jisoo enjoyed watching Wonwoo lose his temper and rush around with stressed, silent curse words thrown here and there. The customers were patient usually. Waiters weren't. This is where the problems started.

„Enjoying the show?” Jeonghan nudged him under the table and looked up from the notebook.

„You have no idea,” Jisoo admitted and took a long sip of his peppermint tea. „It's a real, cheap thrill. Wonwoo tends to annoy me a lot. Feels refreshing to see him annoyed.”

„I've noticed.” Jeonghan chuckled and also took a sip of his drink. „He wasn't subtle when he served us.”

Jisoo returned his gaze to Jeonghan and waited for an explanation. „You mean when he kicked me under the table?”

„Or when he suggested us to take the cake for two, cause, in the end, it was a cheaper option for couples.”

Jisoo blushed at the memory and waved it off. Taking another sip of his almost-finished tea could only save his mouth from answering. He silently thanked the guy who decided to boil leaves that one day, centuries ago.

„You're really the one who takes two steps back after taking one step forward, aren't you?” Jeonghan tilted his head and stopped writing notes. The glasses slipped on his nose but before Jisoo dared to fix it the boy did it himself and sighed.

„What do you mean?”

Jeonghan circled his finger around the edge of a cup and looked down. „W-we didn't really.. talk this all through. It just happened.”

It was nothing but a kiss in the dark but Jisoo was glad the memory also kept occupying Jeonghan's mind and distract him.

„Uh, right. Sorry, I was..”

„Drunk.” Jeonghan snorted. „I know.”

Jisoo crossed his feet under the table and looked down. „I-I wasn't sure if you just wanted to kiss me or.. you wanted more. I didn't want to go overboard. Didn't want to be too much.”

Jeonghan seemed amused again. There must be a lot of inside his mind. The whole movie, that Jisoo took part in but forgot the script. Cut in half act. Maybe he missed something?

„You're so sweet like this, Jisoo,” Jeonghan confessed, a tiny smile appeared on his face. „But it's bold to think that this could be too much to me. You slept with many guys almost every night before you let me kiss you. You think I didn't think it was too much?”

Those were facts, Jisoo understood and felt dumb. He was more transparent than he thought he was. His actions were provocative and seen-through. Jeonghan was an observant one.

Or maybe he could read people well.

„To my defence, I-I” he stuttered and buried chin in his chest. „I thought you genuinely didn't remember me and.. uh, I thought maybe we could be friends.”

Jeonghan licked his lips and waited till Jisoo looked up and noticed him staring. „Do you want to be friends, Jisoo?”

He frowned, offended. „No.”

Jeonghan chuckled and came back to writing.

Jisoo understood he used to be brighter when he was younger. He had a desire to discover and broaden his outlook, to seek new opportunities and turn the world upside down.

Years later, in the empty art studio with very few unfinished projects surrounding him Jisoo understood he failed himself. Some perspectives were more important than others.

The others, that weren't his own. Truth was, this entire time, he was stuck in beliefs, far from reality.

He arrived at university early, took his time to drink tea and check his phone multiple times before another student entered the room.

Jeonghan stood in front of him with cheekiest smile, Jisoo ever saw. Not even the smartest child in a playground could define it. The one that was about to prank his peers or steal pocket money from his parents.

When Jeonghan smiled like this, Jisoo knew he had to keep his eyes wide open.

„Jeonghan.. your fucking apron is on another way around.” Jisoo groaned out loud, fighting the urge to bang his head into the closest wall. Instead, he dragged himself from the seat and took a few steps closer to the boy.

He remained still in his place and only watched Jisoo's movements. Quite sharply and impatiently Jisoo helped him and tied the line around Jeonghan's waist, stealing the breath from him.

Jeonghan smirked. „I can't believe I had to wait so long for you to do it.”

Jisoo took step back but Jeonghan's hand on his waist stopped him, his eyes shoot up alarmed. „You did it-”

„On purpose,” Jeonghan admitted, biting into his lower lip and ogling. Jisoo was pretty sure his heart skipped a beat and someone was coming into class judging from afar noise of steps. „So many times till I could get your attention each time.”

„You like driving a perfectionist crazy.” Jisoo joked and felt his voice stuck inside.

Jeonghan massaged his hip bone with thumb in a soothing manner. Despite the relaxing movement, Jisoo felt only more aroused.

And provoked. He felt provoked.

Words sat on the tip of Jeonghan's tongue as he tried to hold in laughter.

His smile turned gentle despite.

„No, I like you.” he took a step closer and placed his other hand on Jisoo's neck. Jisoo couldn't move until he felt the boy's teeth nibbling on his lower lip. „Maybe driving you crazy, too.”

Jeonghan closed their distance with a long, slow kiss.

Jisoo was an idiot. Minghao liked to remind him on every occasion he had.

„You still.. didn't ask him about it?”

Jisoo shook his head and received silent treatment for another 40 minutes left of the dinner.

Jeonghan's exam was within four days. As never before Jisoo accompanied him and revised the material with him to make sure he will pass it with flying colours.

It became burdensome since some students couldn't stop glancing and talking but in the end, he ignored them. He held Jeonghan's hand as if was his own and as if it hid all secret of the universe. And he was a greedy man. He wanted others to put some effort into finding the purpose of life for some time longer.

Jisoo played with his slimmer, pale fingers and laughed when the boy flicked him off when he tried to write. The pink shade adorning his cheeks betrayed him. Jisoo knew he loved it.

Despite often misleading facade and too-smart-for-his-monkey-brain questions and words, Jeonghan was very tender. Jisoo noticed many times and melted each time their hands brushed and knees touched each other under the desk.

„I can't fucking wait to be done with this shit.” he cursed and Jisoo remembered he was a boy after all. Tender but terse.

„Not long, you're almost done.” Jisoo comforted him and leaned into the other hand, supporting his head. His elbow hurt from the hard, wooden surface of the desk but it didn't really matter at the moment. „Hey, uh-can I ask you about something, actually?”

Jeonghan didn't look up but his expression was open, inviting. „Of course.”

Jisoo glanced over the other desks with working or half-sleeping students and young librarians walking around slowly. No one paid attention to them, Jisoo could grow fond of and used to living inside their little bubble. His eyes returned to Jeonghan who peeked up. „What is it, baby?”

Jisoo's eyes opened up as widely as they could and his breath hitched. „Shit, don't do that so suddenly!”

„Do what?” Jeonghan teased and came back to writing, still holding into Jisoo's hand gently. Smooth motherfucker, he was.

„Call me.. like that.” Jisoo cleared his throat. „Took me off guard.”

„Figured out,” Jeonghan smirked and shook his head, amused. „What did you want to ask me?”

„Where were you this whole time?”

Jeonghan stopped writing and licked his lips. His fingers held into Jisoo's hand tighter. He sensed a change in his body and on his face. „You sure you want to hear the whole thing? It's quite embarrassing.”

„Can't beat me, I'm sure.”

The boy looked comforted but still rolled his eyes and hesitated. „Okay, but. That's quite a story. You probably won't believe me.”

Jisoo offered a smile. „I would love to hear it.”

Jeonghan blushed again, Jisoo called it a triumph. A personal one, the one he could hide inside his deepest drawer and share only in intimate, meaningful moments. Not with anyone but himself.

„I disappeared sometime after the party..” he began talking, biting into his pen. If Jisoo wasn't focused on his wandering gaze he'd notice trembling fingers on the tip of it.

„Yes it did, have to do with you but the story didn't begin in December. I liked you since high school, actually. We never talked and only saw each other after the classes and during lunch breaks but I knew about you. I know you won many competitions and the school had an exhibition of your works many times. Your name wasn't unknown to others. So I wasn't the only one who looked up to you and admired you. Then I started painting too. It took me a lot of practice but I attended many tutoring classes and grow liking what I did. I thought that one day I may become as good as you are but the truth was- I just wanted to have a chance to talk to you with a reason. You understand?”

Jisoo nodded and scrunched his nose, embarrassed. „I told you it's awful!” Jeonghan laughed loudly, ashamed.

„Please go on, please,” Jisoo begged and laughed.

„Fuck, this is so cheesy.” Jeonghan covered his face with his hand and waved it off afterwards. 

„But okay. Then uni happened, I attended art classes because I really wanted to study art and improve. I didn't know you were there too but it was the only class we have together. I didn't have balls to talk to you when we were juniors. I didn't even know I had a crush on you then. On the party, I just knew you looked at me and I didn't mind it. I didn't mind when you wanted to kiss me. I-I actually wanted that too but I wasn't aware at that time. I didn't know I liked you this way. I pulled away ashamed and afraid you may think I'm desperate and- and.. You know what was later. I yelled at you and left the party and disappeared.”

Jisoo nodded and patiently waited for the rest of the story even if he was concerned about what he may hear later.

„I.. realised it was real and fuck, I thought I'm really in love with you but you didn't even know me. I was a coward but desperate one so I tried to impress you, I dressed up nicely just for you to notice me. Uh, but-I always thought.. you never saw me. You never paid attention to me. I-I didn't even know if you liked boys or girls. So I wanted to be both. I wanted to be one you liked and it really became a problem.”

„What problem?” Jisoo asked softly. Jeonghan's expression changed completely.

„I developed a huge eating disorder. I couldn't bring myself to eat and.. I had to skip many classes. My health wasn't the best and I needed therapy. Therapy to.. gain more weight again and be healthy. My parents couldn't look at me, they were so fucking worried. I-I thought if I lose weight and dress differently maybe you'd notice me. Maybe I'd be worth to be seen by you.”

His hand started shaking, Jisoo cupped it between both of his palms.

„Then I came back and you.. you did a portrait of me. And it was.. it was so beautiful. I couldn't believe it and I thought that if I'm seen by you this way I shouldn't worry about anything. I really just wanted your eyes on me.”

Jeonghan's stare fixated on the desk. He didn't dare to look Jisoo into eyes. And he understood it. How difficult it was to admit everything out loud.

„And.. you looked at me as if you knew. As if you remembered that night and knew it was me. It made me think if my curiosity wouldn't ruin everything. I wanted to know but I was scared to ask. When we were on Seokmin's birthday your.. eyes. I don't know what it was but I thought they looked at me with certainty and same awaiting question. You seemed like you wanted to ask too. But then you said otherwise. You noticed my absence but I didn't know if you missed my presence.”

Jisoo was about to open his mouth but Jeonghan interrupted him again. „A-and it turned out you didn't. You had many others. You seemed as if you could have anyone and every time you stumbled upon our meeting you had this hazy, absent gaze. I knew you didn't think of me. I knew you thought of the boy from the night before. His face, his body and his voice. N-not mine. I realised there was no chance for some things to be spoken out loud. I knew if I wanted you I could only have you by my silence.”

Jeonghan's words sank deeply in Jisoo's ears and his heart. „Cause if I told you everything before, you wouldn't spare me a glance and I just wanted you to see me.”

Discovering was addictive. Jisoo didn't feel as innocent as he was when he could count his age on his one hand but he felt as curious as back then.

As willing to create maps of Jeonghan's moles and freckles placements, a recipe book of his favourite meals and playlist of songs that were part of him. 

Jisoo wanted to be involved in his inner, daily monologue. To collect inner jokes and steal subtle touches in public that felt like newly read poems, engraving in his heart. While seeing a bird building a nest, he wished to think of poem's line, where two shy lovers left letters in the tree hollow nearby. To imagine them awaiting the letters from each other. 

He learned new habits and facts within days, over lunch, during classes and dates. Obviously the dates. Frequent, various ones.

„Like this?” he breathed into the crook of his neck and placed a wet kiss there. The place so forbidden before.

„Yeah, fuck. Yesyesyes.”

That day he learned Jeonghan had few weak and sensitive spots. His spine curled up when Jisoo was vocal and his eyes shut when his mouth for once was silent and licked the skin of his neck.

„Do you believe in soulmates?” he asked over the bowl of ramen and blew into the steaming soup on the spoon before he placed it into boy's mouth, hanging wide open. He giggled when some of dripped down his chin.

„Won't you wipe it?” Jeonghan teased while chewing on noodles.

Jisoo shook his head, endeared and leaned back into the chair. „You are capable of helping yourself but not eating without spilling food everywhere. You're are going to be loved but not spoiled.”

„Fair.” Jeonghan chuckled as he took a napkin and pressed into his skin.

„Answer me.” Jisoo rolled his eyes and fought the smile when Jeonghan mirrored his earlier behaviour. The spoon was very close to his mouth. He accepted the food and let it in.

„Actually, no. I don't really know if soul even exists and there was no scientific evidence that could convince me.”

Jisoo gasped, mouth full of food. He shook his head disappointed. „Ah, what a way to kill a boner..”

Jeonghan pushed him over the table and chuckled, embarrassed.

That day he learned Jeonghan was dead serious rational mind and boring. He didn't believe in deep, eternal connection of souls but he did believe in second life. It didn't make much sense to Jisoo but he didn't question it.

Jisoo asked if he believed they would meet again.

„Of course we would, silly.” he kissed the top of his forehead, himself reaching the very top of heels of his boots to afford to be a taller one for a hot minute. Reaching the very peak of sappiness itself maybe too. Jisoo didn't mind, he felt giddy. „In every next life.”

„Geez.. so cheesy.” Jisoo brushed his nose against his and let corners of his lips quirk up.

„Quick math,” he called Jeonghan over, the boy jogged his way out of bathroom and approached him in nothing but a towel. The water kept dripping from tips of his wet hair.

Jisoo knew it wasn't ideal circumstances for holding a serious conversation about finances. He also understood why politicians wear suits.

Otherwise, they would also speak about the nation's matter in the middle of the fuzzy carpet in nothing but a towel on their hips and bathrobes.

„What's the matter?” Jeonghan asked and embraced Jisoo's waist. Jisoo showed him the water bill. „What do you see? Comparing to this one here.” he pulled out the old one.

„Bigger numbers.” Jeonghan bit into boy's shoulder and grinned. „Bigger payment, it seems.”

„Yeah.” Jisoo sighed and brushed his hair with his hand. „You need to take quicker showers. I don't know how but you need to. We're going to end up bathing in the park's lake one day if the price doesn't drop.”

„And it's my fault?” Jeonghan lulled his body in his arms. Jisoo knew it was just another way for him to soften but the topic was serious. Finances and taxes are serious. At least he needed to pretend they were.

„No one else moved in here and took showers beside me.”

Jeonghan hid his head in the nape of his neck and sighed. Jisoo felt warm breath on his skin but didn't turn. His eyes closed on their own. „I have a better idea. Eco one. That's trendy nowadays.”

„That's not trendy. Global warming is another important issue no one pays attention to. I know where you're going with this.”

„Baby.” Jisoo felt both syllables on his skin and shivered. He could sly feel smile there too. „We could save water by showering together and save the planet.”

„If you wanted to be so heroic you could do the dishes.” Jisoo reached out and pinched his hip, making the towel fall into the floor. Jeonghan immediately pulled it back to his body and groaned ashamed.

That day Jisoo learned Jeonghan was mischevious but still very child-like.

He also learned that the water bill didn't drop but the usual time spent under the shower prolonged.

Jisoo gave them a finger, they took the whole hand.

He knew exciting news always sold out like hotcakes.

So when in the early beginning of upcoming spring he started dating Jeonghan no one could stop talking about it but Jeonghan felt noticed. He deserved the attention from the very sunrise to long midnight. He could also handle it much better than Jisoo ever did. All eyes were on him, including Jisoo's of course.

His face beamed with joy when he entered the class and saw Jisoo waiting for him, with pout sitting on his lips.

„Missed you.”

Minghao gagged and came back to painting yet since he was doing still life and itself it wasn't the most thrilling activity there, he eyed the couple.

He prefered watching the love birds.

„I was gone for one day.” Jeonghan giggled and cupped Jisoo's face in his hands before he bent down to plant a loud, dramatic kiss into his lips. „But I missed you too,” he whispered before he pulled away with corners of his mouth lifting slowly.

„If anyone asked I didn't miss you,” Minghao mumbled and turned back to his work.

Jisoo kissed his middle finger before sending it to his friend.

During the break, he brought lunch and two teas before settling down with Jeonghan. He opened the container and handed it to the boy, receiving a silent but thankful answer.

They began to eat, didn't speak much.

Jisoo knew they didn't have to.

Within time passing, he learned words and messages won't be left unsaid if they don't resound. Perhaps, he could read from Jeonghan's appetite he was grateful for being taken care of and receiving fresh, healthy but filling meals from Jisoo's hands. From the way he patted his tum and grinned lazily after lunch, he read love isn't measured on any scale. Shouldn't be, Jisoo knew.

And in the way he came to the class wearing his old blouse, one that was too big but short at the bottom, Jisoo read that Jeonghan didn't spend whole morning choosing clothes to wear and went after his own comfort. Jisoo knew he, like the greedy man he was, mind you, that nothing felt better than seeing his boyfriend in his own clothes. Cheap, fast fashion and trends didn't come close to.

Finally, in the way, Jeonghan's voice opened up, bloomed with time and woke him from a nap during the day when he came back home to talk about everything and nothing at once. Jisoo learned when his voice is high his eyes often water („They sweat, Jisoo. It's basic physiology.”) or when his voice is low, husky his body clings like a magnet to his.

At the age of 24, Jisoo knew the Jeonghan's soft features and read them as well as his mother language.

He knew the skin behind his right ear was sensitive and delicate touch of lips in the crook of his neck always made him sigh in pleasure.

At the age of 24, he understood life is a moment.

The boy in front of him was not a singly trickle of light but whole spectrum of colours of a newborn star, caught within a grasp he could have missed if the presence and past didn't meet in a dark room once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand that would be the end. if you liked it leave a comment or kudos. always appreciated, mwah.


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